Cantaro
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Time for the Maverick Brothers to take a step into the future. And find the one thing that will help them do that- Cantaro.
1. Prologue

Cantaro

Prologue

The first time Bart Maverick saw Cantaro it made him weak in the knees. That had only happened twice before in his lifetime, and both times he married the beautiful blonde that caused the reaction. There would be no marriage this time – Cantaro was a magnificent black stallion, an Arabian to be precise. And everything that Bart had been looking for the past two years.

Bart and his older brother Bret had grown up in Texas, in a small town called Little Bend, the sons of a roving gambler named Beauregard Maverick. Beauregard was one of the best in the land at the game of poker, and one of the most unusual –Maverick didn't cheat when playing cards. Oh, he knew how. Knew every trick in the book, and a few dozen more that he'd invented himself. He was such a pure talent, so good without even thinking about it, that he played as much for the love of the game as for money. His two boys were raised with the same love and respect towards poker that their father had for the cards, and grew up with the sole idea of being just like him. To be brutally honest, they were even better.

Their wanderlust began when they returned from the War; they roamed the country, together and apart, and stayed alive through their bright minds and their quick wit. But even the best of the best eventually tire of living life the same way day after day, and first Bart and then Bret settled down with the woman of their dreams and a family on their minds. Bart managed the biggest and brightest saloon in Little Bend, Maude's, and still played poker whenever the urge overtook him. Bret and his wife, a Regional Director for the Pinkerton Detective Agency, lived in Claytonville, some twenty-five miles from Little Bend, and Bret continued to make his living strictly on poker winnings.

Ben Maverick, the boy's uncle and Beauregard's younger brother, owned a rather sizeable ranch just south of town. He and Beauregard had been living there for several years when Bart began planning the creation of the B Bar M Ranch, which would be perfectly suited to Ben's land. After a long and arduous bout of decision making, Ben Maverick packed up and moved to Baton Rouge, where his own son Beau lived with his wife and children. That left the big house, referred to as 'the mansion' by its owner, in the hands of his youngest nephew. Before a decision could be made regarding the disposition of the ranch, a late summer wildfire swept through the valley and left everything in its wake in ashes.

The fire was a good thing and a bad thing. Bart had a layout in mind for a horse breeding ranch, and it would have required almost total destruction of the current buildings. The fire saved him the trouble of tearing everything down, but it left massive amounts of burned-out ruble to dispose of.

And then, one day, Fate stepped in . . . brushed off her hands and decided it was time for a change. Bret and his wife adopted a child, the orphaned daughter of their best friends, and moved back to Little Bend, into the house that he and Bart grew up in. It wasn't long before the younger brother convinced the older brother it was time to do something they'd talked about when the War ended – raise livestock. Only this time it would be horses and not cattle.


	2. Momma's Way

Chapter 1 – Momma's Way

"You sure it's worth it?" Bret asked as he and Bart looked over what little was left of Ben's ranch one afternoon.

"You got a better idea?" came the reply. "You see what's happening with saloons and poker. More and more towns are runnin' the gamblers out. How are we supposed to make a livin'? We've done this before, Bret, at least once, out in New Mexico. You do remember Molly Hooper, don't you? Or have you gotten old on me?"

'Old' remarks were sure to get a rise out of Bret, and that one did. "No, I haven't gotten old on you. But it's gonna take an awful lot to rebuild this place. Are you sure Ben gave you the go-ahead?"

Bart pulled the letter he'd received out of his pocket and handed it to his brother. "Here, read it yourself."

A few short minutes later Bret handed it back to Bart. "Alright, I'm in, under one condition."

"What would that be?"

"Pauly Wilcox is the head man on the build, and he takes care of everything. I'm NOT doin' any physical labor on this. And I want the two of you to sit down and draw up some formal plans before you get started."

"Is that all?"

"Ain't that enough?"

Bart slapped his brother on the back and laughed. "It's . . . reasonable. Do you want to be in on designin' the layout of the place?"

Bret nodded. "If I can spare the time. With the baby comin' . . . " Bret and his wife Ginny were due to have baby number three at any time.

"You goin' anywhere before he's born?" The brothers had learned to take a two or three-day sabbatical before the birth when another baby was coming . . . because their wives were going to need all the help they could get once the little one arrived.

"No, not this time. It's been hard on Ginny, with Grace and Bartley bein' so little."

"I told you a long time ago to get a housekeeper. "

Bret nodded again. "I know. It's been difficult to find somebody that Ginny really trusted . . . "

"And I told you a month ago that Maria Elena's sister Constanza was lookin' for a job."

"You did? Why don't I remember that?"

"Because you're gettin' old, Brother Bret."

"Has Lily Mae started workin' for you yet?"

"Yep. Started last week."

Lily Mae Connors had been Uncle Ben's housekeeper and cook since the boys were little. At one time she lived with her daughter, who was moving to Houston, but Ben had convinced her to stay and take care of the ranch until Bart knew what he was going to do with it. That all ended when the fire swept through everything. Bart and Doralice had been looking for a replacement for Maria Elena, who'd gotten married and taken a job with her mother at the café. When the invitation to join the youngest Maverick's household came, Lily Mae jumped at the chance and moved in almost immediately.

Doralice finally quit working at the saloon. There were five little Mavericks to take care of, and that was her priority. Bart was happy to have his wife back home again, even though he expected her to get restless sooner rather than later and want something else to do. That's why he fully intended to involve her in the day to day operations of the B Bar M Ranch.

Bret broke into his train of thought. "Will you do that for me?"

"Sorry, do what?"

"Ask Constanza to swing by our place tomorrow. If I can get those two together, I'm sure Connie would be just the person Ginny was lookin' for. Now that that's settled, what are we gonna do with Pappy?"

Lily Mae hadn't been the only one displaced when the mansion burned. Beauregard Maverick had moved in temporarily with his oldest son and daughter-in-law, and he was driving both of them crazy. And the feeling was mutual.

Bart was quick with an answer, lest Bret suggest that Pappy move into town. "I told you, we'll build him his own place when we build the houses. Just like everybody else we're movin' in there. Can you and Ginny hang on to him until then?"

Bret sighed. Make no mistake, he loved his father. But Beauregard was cantankerous on his best days, and nothing had changed over the years. "We'll try. That's all I can promise, Bart. Ginny's about ready to crawl outta her skin, and Pappy ain't helpin' any."

"I can't take anybody else in, Bret, I don't have the room for it. Not since Maude moved in." It had become clear recently that Maude could no longer live by herself. She'd never gotten over the loss of her second husband, Cristian de la Torres, when the attorney was killed in a bank robbery. Doralice had spent quite a bit of time with her recently and insisted that Maude take up residence in the last spare bedroom. Bart hadn't been convinced it was necessary until he spoke to her almost three weeks ago, but after that there was no longer any doubt left in his mind. "I'm beginnin' to feel like I'm runnin' a boardin' house."

"Then it sounds like we better get goin' on this horse ranch, don't it?"

"Yes, and the sooner the better. Pauly's comin' over to the house tonight and we're gonna see what we can do to draw up plans. Then he can do a preliminary estimate of what materials he needs and get the first batch ordered. He's buildin' your house first, then mine, then probably one for Pappy. We gotta do this slow and steady, big brother. It ain't gonna be cheap, and it ain't gonna be quick."

Bret nodded, in full agreement with his brother. "I know. But I do appreciate our place bein' built first. We're just fallin' all over each other, especially with Pappy in the last bedroom."

"Quit havin' them babies and you'll quit runnin' outta room," Bart laughed.

"Look who's talkin'," Bret reminded the younger Maverick. "You got five of 'em."

"Yes, we do," Bart affirmed proudly. "I told Doralice I wanted a whole passel of 'em."

"I think five qualifies. Unless number six is on the way and you ain't told me yet."

"No, I think we're done. I got the feelin' Lily was the last one. That makes me sad, in a way, but I sure understand. Especially since I ain't the one givin' birth to 'em."

"Is Doralice really gonna stay home with 'em?"

"For now. Between our five and Maude, she's got her hands full. Besides, like I said before, I want her help with the ranch. She's the one with all the ideas." Bart pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "I gotta get to the saloon. Wilcox is comin' over at eight o'clock tonight. Can you make it by then?"

"I'll do my best."

"It really would help, since Pauly's workin' on your place first."

Bret nodded. "I know. But I may have to bring Pappy with me." He watched Bart's face to see what kind of a reaction he'd get. To his surprise, his brother didn't look at all concerned.

"Not a problem. I think he'd cheer Maude up some, don't you?"

"I never thought of that. You're probably right. Alright, I'll be there." Pause. "Correction. We'll be there."

"Good." Bart climbed on his horse and tipped his hat to his brother. "I'll see you and Pappy at eight." He rode off towards town.

Bret took a long look at the land spread before him. It was an ambitious project, and one that had been a lifetime coming, but it seemed like the B Bar M was finally going to be a reality. _'God willing and the_ _creek don't rise,'_ Bret thought. _'Momma's finally gonna get her way.'_


	3. The Lucky Ones

Chapter 2 – The Lucky Ones

Bart waited until supper was finished and the twins were in their room to fill Doralice in on that morning's happenings. "You sure Beauregard is coming with him?" was the first thing she asked.

"I'm sure. I guess Pappy and Ginny have been drivin' each other crazy. It'll do both of them some good for him to get out of her hair for a while."

"And into mine," Doralice murmured.

"I thought it might cheer up Maude for Pappy to come visit. She was awful quiet at supper tonight."

Her daughter nodded. "You're probably right. She was talking about Cristian this afternoon, and she seemed . . . you know how she gets. Beauregard will take her mind off what she's lost, I hope. I hate seeing her like that, Bart. She was so happy and alive, and now she's so sad all the time."

She was close enough that he could reach out and gather her into his arms, and that's just what he did. "Isn't there anything we can do to help? Something she can get interested in? Think we could get her involved again with the saloon?"

Doralice looked into her husband's eyes and saw the concern there. She knew the love and affection he'd always harbored for Maude, and it pained her now that he wanted so desperately to fix her mother's broken heart. "I don't think she has any desire to get re-involved with the saloon. It all seems to remind her of what she's lost."

He pulled her close and kissed the back of her neck. "What about somethin' new? I'm sure we could use her help with the ranch."

Doralice put her hands on his chest and gently pushed away from him just as someone knocked on the door. "We can give it a try and see what happens. But I wouldn't be surprised if . . . " There was no time to finish her sentence as she pulled the door open. As usual, Pauly Wilcox was early. "Come in, Pauly. Bret's gonna join us tonight, and he's not here yet."

"He'll be here right soon, Misses. I saw him comin' out of the tobacco store."

"Hello, Pauly. You ready to do some creatin' tonight?" Bart asked as he and the builder shook hands.

"Yessir, Mister Bart, and I'm glad to hear that Mister Bret is gonna be here. We gotta make sure this first house is just what he wants." Pauly headed for the kitchen table, which had been pulled into the center of the room to accommodate the number of people involved in the project.

Another knock at the door sent Doralice back to answer it. Lily Mae had ventured into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee while Bart got cups out of the pantry; Maude wandered out of her bedroom to see what the noise was all about. She stared dispassionately as Bret walked in, her interest peaked only when she caught sight of his father. "Nobody told me Beauregard would be here," Maude murmured to no one in particular.

Bart was close enough to hear her and apologized. "Sorry, Maude, I didn't get a chance to tell you he was comin' with Bret. Why don't you sit down and I'll put Pappy next to you." Maude smiled and headed for the far end of the table, and when Pappy made his way to the kitchen his youngest son made sure the two old friends were side by side.

XXXXXXXX

Lily Mae felt like she'd been up all night as she started another pot of coffee. It was sometime after midnight before the 'planning session' broke up, and right now it was almost seven o'clock. She heard movement in the twins' bedroom . . . and knew they'd be out soon, gathering eggs from the hen house in the backyard and watching her prepare breakfast. Before Maudie and Isabelle could appear to brighten her morning, Bart came striding out of the main bedroom, buttoning his shirt and tying his tie. "Good-mornin', Lily Mae," he greeted her, right before planting a kiss on her cheek. "How's my best girl this mornin'?"

"Tired, Mr. B. How can you be so bright and happy this early . . . " was as far as she got before the girls appeared, rolling into the kitchen just exactly as they had when they were smaller. The two tiny tornadoes had grown into two eight-year-old tornadoes; just as noisy and disruptive as before, only older. She handed Maudie the egg basket and the two of them went tumbling out the back door; peace was momentarily restored.

Bart was laughing and shaking his head. "Nothing ever changes, does it, Lily?"

"Not with this bunch," she answered. "How was Miss Maude last night after I went to bed?"

"Bright and happy as long as Pappy was here – she was almost like her old self. Quiet as a dormouse once he left with Bret."

Lily handed the man she'd watched grow up a full cup of coffee, and he accepted it gratefully. "Did y'all get anything worked out last night? It sounded like Bret couldn't make up his mind what he wanted."

"We did, finally," Bart told her as he sipped his coffee. "He's got three bedrooms and a semi-enclosed room in back where he wants to put a tub. He calls it a 'bath room.' It sounded kinda funny at first, but the more I think about it the more I like the idea. Pauly thought it was brilliant. We know where everybody's house is gonna go. And Wilcox made a pretty good estimate of what it'll cost and how long it'll take to get the first one built. He's gonna order enough to get started this mornin'."

Maudie and Belle came back from outside, and Belle presented a basket full of eggs to Lily Mae. Maudie was already sitting on her father's lap, begging sips of coffee from him. "Please, Poppy, please. Just a swallow. Your coffee is sooooo good."

"We do this every morning, Maudie, and every morning I tell you no."

She looked at him sweetly, with as much sincerity as she could muster. "And I beg you until you let me have some. Wouldn't it be easier if you'd just give me a swallow to begin with?"

"Lily Mae, help me here," Bart practically begged.

The long-time housekeeper chuckled as she shook her head. "That's payback, Mr. B, for all the times you drove your Pappy crazy beggin' for the same thing."

Belle had joined her sister, standing next to Bart and watching him closely. "You too, buttercup?" he asked plaintively.

"Yes, please."

It always amazed Bart that Maude was so verbose with her requests and Belle was just as succinct. There was no sense stalling any longer; neither girl was going to give up until she'd had her 'coffee.' He lowered the cup carefully and gave first one, then the other, one swallow from his cup, then handed it back to Lily Mae for a refill. "Where's your brother?" he asked his oldest (by almost five minutes) daughter.

"Where he always is, Poppy. Still in bed."

While his daughters were more than eager to go to school, his oldest boy Beauregard wanted nothing more than to remain in bed and sleep the day away. _'Just like me,_ ' he thought, remembering all the school mornings his father had to threaten him within an inch of his life to get him up.

"I've got him," Doralice offered as she half-carried, half-dragged her oldest son into the kitchen.

"Is he alive?" his father asked.

"Barely," came his mother's answer.

"Beauregard," Bart practically shouted.

"I'm awake, father. There's no reason to yell at me," proclaimed the small lump on the floor, right where his mother had dropped him.

"Then stand up," Bart instructed.

"Must I?"

"Yes."

"Breakfast," Lily announced, and both girls were instantly in their chairs with their plates in front of them. Beauregard was still struggling to stand up. "Breakfast, Beauregard," Lily announced again, and set a plate of scrambled eggs at the table where he was expected to be.

"Tell me again why we didn't stop at two," Bart pleaded with his wife.

Doralice grinned and gave him a kiss. "Because we were havin' too much fun."

"And where are the wee ones this mornin'?"

"Still in bed. They looked like such angels, I just let them sleep. Lily, I'll cook them breakfast when they finally get up."

Lily Mae just laughed and pointed. Hand in hand the two littlest Mavericks, Breton and Lily, slowly walked across the floor towards the kitchen. "They smelled it," Lily Mae smiled, watching them head straight for the table. Breton helped his sister into her 'high chair' and then took his place right next to her. Both faces looked up hopefully and broke into big grins when Lily Mae set a plate of eggs down in front of each one. Breton handed Lily her fork and made sure she had a firm grip on it before picking up his own and digging into breakfast.

Bart shook his head. It never ceased to amaze him that his youngest son, named for his brother, was so protective of his little sister. Lily had been a happy surprise, and her daddy was thrilled when his wife suggested naming her for the only woman he had any conscious memory of as a mother. Lily Mae considered it an honor and was particularly pleased. Breton had become Lily's guardian and protector, and when she needed something, he was always there for her. It reminded Bart of the way Bret watched over him growing up, and well into their adult lives.

"Well, now that the chickens are all having breakfast, I'm goin' to the saloon. I've got some paperwork to catch up on, and I'm meetin' Pauly around noon at the Emporium."

"Placing the first order?" Doralice asked.

"Yep. Pauly's got a crew ready to start work, but he needs those supplies by next week. With any luck, Bret's house will be up in no time."

"Good. It's gonna be a race between the house and the baby." Doralice smiled, happy for once that it wasn't her race. "I think I'll take the little ones and go see Ginny today. Unless you need me for something."

Bart swept his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately. "I always need you for somethin'."

The blonde beauty giggled and kissed her husband back. "Smartypants. Try not to spend all our money today, would you?"

"It's not just our money, darlin'. It's big brother's money, too."

"I'm glad, for Bret's sake." There was a time when money was tight for Bret and Ginny, but that time had passed. Ginny was once again drawing a full salary from Pinkerton, and Bret had been riding a winning streak for months on end.

"So am I." No longer worried about his brother's financial status, Bart had pushed forward with building the B Bar M. "Love you, blue-eyes," he told his wife, and listened to the chorus of "Good-bye's" that followed him out the front door. Doralice watched him go and sighed.

"You really love that man, don't you?" Lily Mae asked.

"With all my heart and soul," Doralice answered. "He's everything I ever wanted." She turned back to the kitchen table, where five pairs of eyes were watching her intently. "Come on, everybody. You've got places to be and things to do."

Lily Mae handed Doralice a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee. "He's a lucky man, that one."

The beautiful blonde shook her head. "We're both lucky, Lily Mae. Both of us."


	4. Finding a New Direction

Chapter 3 – Finding a New Direction

Ginny heard the buggy pull up outside and wondered who had come to visit. She peered out the front window and was pleased to find Doralice and her two little ones; it had been a while since they'd come out to the house. As big as she was while waiting for her third child, she was traveling absolutely nowhere.

"I was just thinking about you," the Pinkerton Regional Director explained as she opened the door.

"Who is it? Who's there?" Beauregard Maverick yelled from the back bedroom.

"It's Doralice," Ginny yelled back.

"No wonder you're in such a hurry to get into a bigger house," Doralice remarked as she herded Breton and Lily inside. "Does Beauregard always yell like that?"

Ginny nodded. "He's having trouble with his hearing. And it's getting worse."

Grace appeared in the doorway to the bedroom she shared with her brother Bartley and gave her cousins a big smile. "Bret and Lily. Come to play?"

Breton smiled back. Next to his sister Lily, Grace was his favorite person in the two families. "Yes, lovey," he replied. All three disappeared into the bedroom.

"At least we don't have to worry about any of them yelling," Doralice remarked. "How the first two came out so loud and the rest have been so soft-spoken, I'll never know."

"God only knows what I'll get this time," Ginny stated as she patted her belly. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if he was nice and quiet?"

"Another boy, you think?"

"I have . . . no idea. I think this better be the last one."

"What? You don't want five?"

"Having Beauregard is like having two or three more."

Doralice laughed. "You've got the original. I've got the copy."

"How did the meeting go last night? Bret was going to Asherville to play poker and he left early this morning."

"Pretty good, I think. Bret's got all the details, but they're gonna build your place first – then Beauregard's. They should be starting on yours tomorrow. Bart and Pauly are ordering the first supplies today at lunch. They're gonna try to get yours finished by the time the baby gets here."

"They better hurry, then," Ginny laughed. "I don't know how much longer I can hold out. What about Beau? Where is he going until his place is built?"

"That wasn't decided. You may have to keep him until then."

Ginny groaned just as Beauregard appeared in the front room. "Doralice! How's your mama today?"

"She's good, Beauregard. How are you?" Doralice made sure she spoke a little bit louder than usual.

"Tired. I'm tired. Yesterday was a long day. When are they gonna start on my house?"

"We talked about that last night. Pauly is going to build Bret's first, then yours. You should be in it soon."

"Soon, huh? Alright, soon it is." Beauregard turned around and headed back down the hall. "I'm goin' to take a nap."

Ginny waited until her father-in-law was out of earshot. "See what I mean?"

"Don't give up, Ginny. If the baby's born and Beauregard gets to be too much, he can come stay with us until his house is done."

"Where in God's name would you put him, Doralice?"

"I don't know, but we'll find room for him."

Ginny waddled out into the kitchen. "How about some coffee?"

"I'd love some. Here, you sit down and let me get it. Then we can visit for a while."

So the sister-in-law's spent a pleasant afternoon drinking coffee and discussing the new ranch. And Doralice wasn't there when her oldest daughter came home from school with a black eye.

XXXXXXXX

"You sure that's enough for the first house?" Bart asked.

"Yessir, Mr. Bart. That should take care of it. We'll start buildin' tomorrow. If the rainy season holds off for us, we should be done by the end of the month. Then we can start Mr. Beauregard's house. It's smaller so it won't take as long to build."

"Then ours."

"Yessir, yours is gonna take longer because it's bigger."

"You think we can get the whole ranch built in a year? Remember, we've got a breeding barn, a full-size barn for the horses, a smaller barn for the other livestock, and all the corrals and such."

"I think we can. If not, we can sure come close."

"Pauly, this is real important. If you need help with somethin', you gotta let me know."

"I know how important it is, Mr. Bart. I won't let you down."

"I'm comin' out there tomorrow to see how things are goin'. I wanna make sure the houses are in the right spot."

"Yessir, I understand."

Bart laid his hand on Pauly's shoulder. "I know you do, Pauly. It's just that . . . well, I want this to be perfect. So that Bret and me both have somethin' to hand down to our kids. And I can see it in my head, the way I want it to be. But when I try to explain it, it just don't sound right. So I thought maybe if I could really see it . . . see the land cleared and ready to build on. Then maybe I'd be able to tell you just what it is I'm after . . .

"I know what that's like, Mr. Bart. And I really do understand what it is you're tryin' to do. You come on out there tomorrow, and we'll see if we can get it all laid out just like you want it."

"Thanks, Pauly. I gotta go back to the saloon . . . I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yessir, Mr. Bart. Tomorrow."

XXXXXXXX

"Where is your sister?" Doralice asked Belle once she got home from visiting Ginny.

"Our room."

"Does she feel well? I haven't seen her since I got home."

Belle hesitated; Maudie felt fine but didn't look fine. "Yes, momma."

"She feels alright? Then would you ask her to come out here, please?" Doralice was concerned; it wasn't like her oldest daughter to stay in her bedroom once the girls were home. Particularly when it was a beautiful afternoon, and brother Beauregard was already out in the backyard with the dog, the cat, and the chickens.

Ever the obedient child, Belle disappeared into the twins' bedroom to fetch her sister. In less than a minute Belle was back in the kitchen. "Where's your sister?"

The little blonde head shook back and forth. "She doesn't wanna come out, momma."

"Why not?"

"Don't know."

"Maudie," Doralice called, "come out here please." Belle's twin appeared in the bedroom doorway, keeping her back to her mother.

"Yes, momma?"

"Turn around and look at me, Maude." With great reluctance, Maude Belinda Maverick did just that. And presented her mother with her right eye blackened. "Where did you get that?" Doralice demanded.

"At school," Maude answered quietly.

"Who gave it to you?"

There was no answer from Maude. Finally, Belle spoke up. "Billy Kramer."

"Is that the truth, Maude?" Again, no answer. "Maude?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why did Billy Kramer give you a black eye?"

Again it was Belle who answered the question. "Maudie hit him first."

Doralice sat down at the kitchen table. "Come sit with me, Maude. You too, Belle." Belle did exactly as requested; it took Maude several minutes before she sat down across the table from her mother. "Tell me exactly what happened, Maude. And I don't want to hear it from your sister. I want to hear it from you."

Maude's words were slow and quiet at first, slowly increasing in speed as the answer continued. "Billy Kramer called daddy a low-down dirty cheatin' gambler. Said he oughta be run outta town. So I hit him. Ain't nobody gonna talk about my daddy like that. I don't care if they do live on a big cattle ranch. Nobody."

' _Damn right,'_ thought Doralice. What she said was, "Did Miss Sullivan send a note home with you? For your daddy or me?"

"No."

"Belle, was there a note?"

"No, momma."

' _What am I gonna do with you now?'_ was Doralice's next thought. "Alright, you're not goin' to school tomorrow. And we'll talk to your daddy about this when he gets home. And no more hitting people, no matter what they say. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Belle? That goes for you, too."

"Yes, momma."

"Alright, go on back to your room." She watched her two oldest children walk back to their bedroom, both stood tall and proud. She got up and poured herself a cup of coffee, and wondered what was happening to their peaceful little town. Bart had been respected in town as an honest businessman; now some child was repeating the things he no doubt heard his father say at home. She hadn't been entirely sure that building the ranch was the right thing to do . . . now there was no doubt left in her mind. The Maverick family was headed in the right direction.


	5. Growing Up

Chapter 4 – Growing Up

"She's got what?" Bart had just heard the news from his wife that his eight-year-old daughter had a black eye, and he was less than pleased by it. "Maudie! Maudie, honey, come out and let me see your shiner!" The little girl came straight to her daddy, nowhere near as hesitant to display her badge of honor as she was around her mother. "What happened, angel?"

"I hit him, Poppy. I hit Billy Kramer. And he hit back."

"And why did you hit him?"

"Because he called you a low-down dirty cheatin' gambler. And I know you're not."

"That's right, baby, I'm not. Did you give him a black eye?"

She shook her head. "No, daddy, I didn't. I split his lip."

"That's not very ladylike, sweetheart."

"Don't care. Nobody's gonna say things like that about my daddy."

"You do know that I was what some people would call a gambler, don't you?"

Maudie nodded solemnly. "But you wasn't no low-down dirty cheatin' gambler. I know that. And I ain't gonna let no Billy Kramer get away with sayin' you are."

"A lady doesn't hit people, Maudie."

"Poppy . . . somebody's gotta set that boy straight."

He pulled his daughter close and kissed her forehead. "It doesn't have to be you."

"Ain't nobody else to do it."

One more kiss on the forehead. "That could get you in trouble, darling girl."

"But, Poppy . . . "

"Maudie, you can't go around hittin' people that say things you don't like, even if they're not true. You have to let it go. I don't want my little girl gettin' hurt."

"Billy Kramer can't hurt me, Poppy."

"This time it was Billy Kramer. Next time it could be somebody twice your size. Somebody that could hurt you. Promise me you won't hit anybody else, angel. I don't want you to get hurt."

"But, Poppy . . . "

He held her even tighter than before. She needed to understand that he just wanted to keep her safe; protected and safe. Always. "Please, Maudie."

She sagged against him and gave in. The little girl adored her father, and there was no way she would deny him when he asked this one thing of her. "Yes, Poppy. I won't hit anybody else." Pause. "But I ain't gonna stand there and listen when they start sayin' bad things about you."

"That's alright, angel. You just walk away from 'em, and you'll make me proud."

She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, feeling the soft stubble on his face rub against her. "I love you, Poppy."

"Me too, angel. Me too."

XXXXXXXX

Bart stared at the vast expanse of ground in front of him and couldn't believe how much burned material and rubble had been cleared from the acreage that once held Ben Maverick's ranch. The land seemed entirely different, and what had been complicated and unclear now made perfect sense. The placement of the houses had been off, slightly skewed to the north, and the barns needed to be set back some so that when the winds blew, the smell wouldn't be pushed straight into the homes.

Pauly Wilcox was glad that Bart had come out to see the cleared land for himself. They made the slight changes with the houses and the barns, and both men felt better about the overall layout. They'd taken their time and spent over an hour with the small redesign, and were almost finished when Doralice pulled up in the buggy. She had Lily, Breton, and Maudie with her.

"What are you doin' here, blue-eyes?"

"Your daughter wanted to see the land when it was cleared, and since we kept her home from school today, I figured why not come out?"

Bart lifted Maude out of the buggy and deposited her on the dirt next to him. "What do you think, angel? It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Where's our house gonna be, Poppy? And the breedin' barn? And did you and Pauly plan enough room for a giant-sized chicken coop?"

Bart looked at Doralice. "Have you talked to her about this?"

A shake of the head. "Not a word. I believe your daughter is interested all on her own."

"Maudie, how do you know about all of this? The ranch, I mean?"

"It's important to you, Poppy, so it's important to me. I want to be part of it . . . with you."

He took his daughter's hand and led her over to Pauly and the 'blueprints' they'd drawn. "Look, this is what we're gonna do, except we made some changes this morning. We've moved . . . " Maudie listened rapturously for the next few minutes while Bart explained the changes they'd made, and why they made them. Doralice stayed in the buggy with Lily on her lap and Breton in the back seat, content just to sit and watch. Maude had shown an interest in the B Bar M from the very beginning; Bart just had too many things on his mind to notice it. She'd asked her mother all her questions, and Doralice answered them as best she could. This was the first time the eight-year-old had gotten to see the land where her grandfather's home once stood since fire had destroyed practically everything. She'd pleaded with Doralice to make the drive today, before construction actually started, and her mother had finally acquiesced.

When Bart finished explaining everything to his daughter, he brought her back over to the buggy. "You know everything I do, honey. If you're really interested in keeping up with things, I can bring you out here whenever I come, and you'll be able to see the changes as they happen. That's gonna mean a lot less play time, and some real work on your part. Is that what you want?"

The golden head bobbed up and down. "Yes, daddy. That's exactly what I want." Bart caught the change from 'poppy' to 'daddy' and realized how serious his oldest daughter was.

"Then that's the way it'll be. Doralice, are you goin' home or do you have somethin' else to do now?"

"I was gonna drive back into town and take the children to Sawyer's for lunch. Do you have time to come along?"

Bart nodded. He didn't have time, but he'd make time; eating lunch out was a treat for all of them. "Can you wait a few minutes? Pauly and me are almost done here, then I can come back with you and head for the saloon when lunch is finished."

His wife leaned down and kissed him. "For you, honey, I can wait."

Fifteen minutes later they were all headed for Sawyer's Café, Maudie riding double with her father and babbling about plans for the Maverick Ranch. Bart listened to his daughter enthusiastically explain all the ideas she had for the B Bar M and he couldn't help but wonder . . . where had all this come from? A lot of it was nothing more than childish chatter, but there were actually one or two suggestions that he wanted to hear more about. Was this the same child that had just acquired a black eye for her efforts to defend her father's good name? Who knew she could be this delightful mix of little girl and enthusiastic adult? And if she was this way at only eight years old, what was she going to be like at twelve? Or fourteen? Bart gave an involuntary shudder. He had the feeling that whatever Maudie was, she was going to be a handful.


	6. And Murphy

Chapter 5 – And Murphy

"How was poker today, sweetie?" Ginny asked as Bret ate the supper she'd tried to keep warm for him.

He nodded as he chewed. "Same way it's been the past . . . however long it's been. Like I couldn't do no wrong. I came home with almost four thousand dollars."

She bent down and kissed the top of his head, then poured him more coffee. "That should be enough to finish off what you told Bart you'd have for him."

When the brothers Maverick agreed to go ahead with the B Bar M Ranch, they'd each committed to contributing a certain amount of money to the cost of building and buying breeding stock. Bret almost laughed; Ginny had no idea just how much he'd actually won the last three months. "Honey, I paid him that money almost a month ago."

"You . . . did? Then what have you been playing for?" There was no anger in her voice, just confusion.

He took the last bite of his food and reached over to hug her belly which, along with the rest of her, was still standing next to his chair. "Been playin' so we'd have enough money that I could quit for a while. I've played my last poker until this baby's born." Ginny had gotten considerably larger with baby number three than she had with Bartley, and was having great difficulty getting anything done. "Now I can stay home and give you some help. And I can take some of the burden of gettin' our house built off my brother."

A big, fat tear rolled down Ginny's cheek. "You did that . . . for me?"

"Don't cry, baby. I know you been lookin' for a housekeeper and haven't found one yet. So now I can help some."

"I love you, gambling man," Ginny professed to him as she reached up and wiped away the tear. "And it's a beautiful idea. But I hired Maria Elena's sister Constanza to start on Monday."

Bret did laugh then. "Then I guess I'll have enough time to get in the way. Maybe I can start teachin' Gracie to ride Murphy. She's been askin' me for a while now."

"If you promise to be extra careful. I don't want her getting hurt."

Bret and Bart started frequenting livestock auctions once they agreed to go into the horse breeding business. When Murphy appeared for sale at one such event, Bret couldn't resist and bought the grey pony for his little girl. Grace had been begging her father to teach her to ride ever since.

"Don't worry, I won't be takin' any chances with our little girl. And if Bartley is so inclined . . . "

"He's too young, Bret."

"He's big for his age, Ginny."

That part was true. Bartley had the typical Maverick build – he was tall and solid, just like his father. That didn't relieve Ginny's concerns, however . . . he was still only two years old.

"He's too young." The little boy's mother wasn't going to back down on this one.

"Yes, ma'am," Bret finally agreed. He knew better than to argue with his wife when she sounded like that. It didn't mean he'd given in, it simply meant he wasn't going to do any more arguing.

Bret picked up his dishes and utensils and put them in the wash basin. "I'll get those in the morning . . . since I don't have to go anywhere." He joined Ginny in the front room. "Do you want me to start a fire?" It wasn't really cold outside, but there was a chill inside the little house. "By the way, where's Pappy?"

"In his room. He went back there to read right after supper."

"Well, at least you've had some peace tonight."

Ginny nodded. "After I got the babies in bed. Doralice told me yesterday that she and Bart would take him after we move into the new house if they had to."

"What are they gonna do with him? Stack him in the corner like firewood?"

A shake of the Pinkerton directors head. "I have no idea. But I'm not going to argue with her, I'll tell you that."

"Has it really been that bad?" The look that Ginny gave her husband would have withered most men. Bret just let it slide off him. "I take it that's a yes."

"Worse, sometimes. Then there are days like today, when he's closer to being grandpa than anything. And he's as sweet as can be."

Ginny finally sat in her chair by the fireplace and took off her shoes. Once again her feet were swollen, and Bret pulled his chair in front of hers and began to massage them. "Better?" he asked.

"Oooh," she moaned. "Have I told you recently that I love you?"

"Yes," he answered, "but you can tell me again as many times as you want to."

"Shhhh. Just keep rubbing."

XXXXXXXX

Bret was up and awake before Ginny the next morning. He started the coffee and the porridge, then helped Grace finish dressing and changed Bartley's diaper. By the time his wife finally appeared, even Pappy was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. "Ain't you goin' to play poker this morning?"

Bret shook his head as he poured himself a cup. "Nope. Not playin' anymore until the baby's born."

Pappy said nothing, but there was a faraway look in his eyes. He was remembering a time and a place long ago when he should have done the same thing. "That's . . . that's a good idea, boy."

Bret knew exactly what his father meant. The oldest Maverick child was a girl named Elizabeth, who was stillborn one night when Beauregard was out playing poker. He never forgave himself for the loss of his only daughter, and both of his sons remembered the lesson when it came time for their own children to be born. "I knew you'd think so, Pappy."

"We had company the other day," Beauregard hadn't seen his son since Doralice and the little ones had come to visit.

"I heard. I bet you had a fine time with the grandbabies here."

Beau chuckled. "I did. Little Bret is so protective of Lily. He reminds me of you and the way you took care of Bart."

"It's in our blood. We gotta look out for the ones littler than us."

"It's a good lesson to learn. It'll come in right handy when the baby's born."

Bret watched his father for a long minute. "Grace already takes care of Bartley."

There was a sound in Pappy's voice that rubbed Bret the wrong way. It was something he'd heard before, whenever the subject of Grace came up. Pappy loved the little girl; there was no doubt about that. But he never quite forgot that she was born a Manning and not a Maverick.

"I know she does. I see it every day."

"She'll look over the new baby, too."

Beauregard nodded. "I never said she wouldn't."

Maybe Bret was entirely too sensitive about Grace's parentage. He never had to worry about Ginny; Grace was her baby and hers alone. Could it be he imagined things, and Pappy never even considered who her birth parents were?

"I couldn't ask for a finer little girl."

Pappy reached over and patted Bret on the arm. "Settle down, Breton. I know how much you love Gracie. You don't have to keep remindin' me of it."

Bret shrugged. Maybe it was all his imagination. "You love her, too." Pause. "Don't you?"

Beauregard was quick to answer. "Of course I do. How could anyone not love her?"

Ginny finally made her way into the kitchen, holding Grace's hand, who was holding Bartley's hand. "Gracie says daddy made breakfast for our babies. Did he have any left over?"

"Enough to feed half the county," Bret replied, eager to think of anything besides Beauregard's attitude towards Bret's oldest child. "Do you want some? It's still hot."

Ginny sat down and nodded. "How about you, Beau? Did you have any?"

"Is it edible?"

Bret snorted. "Of course it's edible. The kids didn't have any problem with it."

Beauregard laughed. "I didn't see you eat any of it."

Before Bret could stand up, his lap was full of little girl. "Do you want somethin', sweetie?" he asked tenderly.

"Yes," came the quick answer.

"And what would that be, baby girl?"

Big, dark eyes looked up at him. "Murphy. Teach me Murphy, daddy." Bret sighed. Somebody had been listening to her parent's talk last night when she should have been sleeping.

He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she smiled before slipping down to the ground. Next she deposited herself in Beauregard's lap. "Pawpaw, daddy's gonna teach me to ride Murphy soon as he comes back."

"Comes back from where?" Beau asked.

"The new house!" Grace answered with a grin.

"I'm gonna ride over to Ben's . . . I mean the ranch, for a bit and see if they've gotten started. Then I'll be back to give Gracie her first lesson."

"On Murphy," Grace insisted.

"On Murphy," her father confirmed.

"Pawpaw, you be there too?"

Beauregard looked into those dark eyes and smiled at her. How could anyone not love this child? "I will, if you want me there."

She nodded, her long, black hair bouncing up and down. "Yes, please. Daddy and Pawpaw. And Murphy."

"And Murphy," Bret repeated.


	7. Reality Sets In

Chapter 6 – Reality Sets In

The ranch was busier than a beehive. Pauly's crew already had Bret's outside walls framed and was just about to start the individual rooms. "Well, Mr. Bret, I didn't expect to see you here today. No poker?"

"Nah, Pauly, I'm done until the baby's born. I see you moved the houses a bit."

"Yessir, Mr. Bart and me decided they wasn't quite right where they was. We pushed the barns back some, too. I hope that sits alright by you."

Bret nodded. It made perfect sense, now that he could see it all in front of him. "I can't believe you've got it framed already."

"Yessir, we got strict orders from Mr. Bart to get your house done in a 'gosh darned hurry,' is the way he put it. I take it that's fine by you."

"The sooner, the better," Bret assured him. "And you've got plenty of funds? At least for now?"

"Yessir. We ain't short of money, that's for certain. You think of anything you want changed, you let us know."

Bret rode home slowly, contemplating the move that both he and his brother were going to make . . . from roving gambler to reliable businessman. He was concerned, and excited, and scared. His life had changed so completely in the past three years that he almost didn't recognize it. Marriage, fatherhood, living in one place rather than traveling around the country, a move to respectability. Everything he'd evaded to the best of his ability for his entire life. Was he really ready to handle all that?

In just a few short minutes he was home. The house he'd grown up in. The house he was raising his children in. The house he would soon leave behind, to live in a place that would accommodate his new life. And his expanded family.

Grace Virginia Maverick. The beautiful little orphan that had really started this whole thing. He loved her from the moment he first saw her, with every ounce of his heart and soul. Bartley Jerome Maverick. The first child he'd actually sired, the quiet and introspective little boy that went everywhere his big sister went. And the unknown, Baby Maverick number three. Boy or girl, how would this child affect all of their lives?

Grace and Bartley were hanging on the fence rails, watching Murphy interact with the horses in the paddock. Pappy stood with them, and the three turned when they heard Bret approach. "Daddy!" Grace yelled, and ran for her father. Bartley, left standing alone, turned and wrapped himself around his grandfather's leg.

Bret lifted the little girl high in the air, the way he used to when she was a tiny thing, and then held her close in his arms. "Do you remember how we saddle Murphy?"

The dark head bobbed up and down. "Yes, daddy. It's all in the barn."

"Let's go then, shall we?" Bret turned to his father before he and Grace left for the barn. "Keep Bartley out here, would you, Pappy, so he don't run after us."

"I will," Beauregard assented.

Once inside the cool, dark barn, Bret set Grace down and followed her to the tack. Too small to saddle Murphy herself, she pointed out everything that was needed to accomplish the task. "Go out there and get him, baby girl, and bring him in here."

Grace ran out of the barn and returned a few short minutes later with her pony in tow. "Now, tell me how to saddle him."

Grace instructed her father, step by step, and shortly after that Murphy was saddled and ready to go. "You all ready to try this, Grace?"

"Yes, daddy."

He lifted her up carefully and deposited her squarely in the saddle, then handed her the reins. "Let's go," he told her, and led Murphy out into the corral. For the next two hours they walked, then trotted, then cantered, with Grace doing most of the work required of her to control and instruct her pony. Bret was suitably impressed with how quickly she picked things up, and how much she remembered each time they switched tasks. Finally, he could see how tired his little girl looked, and he called a halt to the lesson.

"I think that's enough for the first day, sweetie. We don't wanna wear you or Murphy so far out that you've got nothin' for tomorrow."

Grace was thrilled when she heard the word 'tomorrow,' and was beyond eager to have another lesson. Bret helped her to the ground, and she told him the exact order to remove Murphy's tack and how the gear should be treated when she was done with it. Last but not least came the care and feeding of the grey pony, who looked mighty contented when the day's work was all over.

Beauregard and Bartley had gone inside when the sun began to get hot, and Bret found them in the front room; Bartley ensconced in Pappy's lap while Pappy read _'At the Back of the North Wind'_ to him. Bartley was almost asleep; the way Pappy's voice sounded he was, too. Ginny was taking a nap in their bed, and after a minute or two of discussion, Bret and Grace decided that wasn't such a bad idea. He followed his daughter into her bedroom and lay down in the bed he spent his entire youth sleeping in. His feet hung over the end of the bed, but it really didn't matter. He opened his arms and Grace crawled into them willingly, both of them closing their eyes and falling asleep quickly, each with a smile on their face.

XXXXXXXX

"Your brother was here earlier."

"Bret?"

Pauly laughed. "Unless you got another one I don't know about."

Bart chuckled. "Was he on his way to play poker?"

"Nope." Pauly shook his head. "Said he was done playin' poker till the baby was born. He was goin' home to teach Grace how to ride her pony."

"Good for him. I bet Pappy's glad that Bret's quit playin' for a while, too." Pauly looked confused, and Bart explained, "It's a long story."

"You need me to do anything special, Mr. Bart?"

Bart looked around and was pleased with what he saw. _'This is gonna be some place when it's done,'_ he thought to himself. "Nope, Pauly, I just wanted to see if you'd gotten started this mornin'. I'm headed back to the saloon. You know where I am if you need me."

He rode back to Little Bend and stopped at the livery. He and Bret had two mares stabled there that they'd picked up at auction, and he wanted to leave Blue for the day. There was too much work waiting for him at the saloon, and it was time he had that talk with his right-hand man, Billy Sunday. Billy had come to him from his sister Jody and the saloon in Montana, and he'd proven himself invaluable too many times to count. Billy deserved to move up in the hierarchy around Maude's. Willie Beacham, too. Willie had been the head bartender for many years at Maude's . . . it was Bart's intention to make him something more.

He stopped at the house on his way to the saloon and found everything in its usual state of chaos. Lily Mae had already started working on lunch; her namesake was in the yard with her grandmother Maude checking out the newest batch of baby chicks. Breton was sitting on the back porch with Miss Lucy in his lap, 'keeping watch' over his baby sister. The three oldest were in school, but Maudie had left him a note. _'Dearest Daddy – You owe me a visit to the ranch. When can we go?'_

Bart chuckled and went back inside. "Lily Mae, where's Doralice?"

"She went over to the Emporium, Mr. B, to order some fabric for the new drapes."

"New drapes? What new drapes?"

"The drapes for the new house." Bart sighed. It was time to get his beautiful wife involved with the B Bar M; it sounded like she was bored and ready for something new to occupy her time. Maybe she could go to the next auction with him, since Bret would probably be busy with the new baby. Matter of fact, when was the next auction? He had the paperwork at the saloon and would check when he got to his office. "You be home for dinner, Mr. B?"

"What time, Lily Mae?"

"Around seven."

"I'll be here. Tell Doralice I stopped by, would you?"

He headed out the door and down the street, toward Maude's. He had a lot of work to catch up on, not counting the talks he intended to have with the two men he depended on the most.

By four o'clock he had all of his bookwork done, and he was waiting for Billy to get in so he could . . . start making the changes at Maude's that were necessary if he and Bret were really going to pursue the B Bar M. That's what was on his mind later, when he spoke to both Billy Sunday and his head bartender. He offered Sunday the job of assistant manager, more or less running the place, and Willie Beacham the floor manager position. Both men accepted, and Bart arranged for Willie to begin his training the next night. As soon as he was comfortable in the job, Bart could begin training Billy to take over his job.

That gave him probably two weeks before he could really get away and begin the process of stocking the ranch. That worked perfectly – the next auction was in Abilene almost a month from now. Mares were easy enough to come by . . . he and Bret could pick up enough of what they needed at local auctions. Arabian stallions, though . . . that was gonna be the hard part. And to find just the right stallion . . . that was gonna be the most difficult task of all. He felt a chill of anticipation run up his spine.


	8. Ever the Same

Chapter 7 – Ever the Same

Two weeks later things were still a little bumpy at Maude's, but all in all everybody was enjoying the challenge of a new job. Everybody except the head man, who was beginning to wonder if he'd made the right move.

The outside construction on Bret's house was complete; so far the weather had been kind to all of them and had remained bright and sunny, for the most part. Maudie was good to her word . . . there'd been no more trouble at school. And the best news of all – Doralice was actually interested in the building of the ranch and the intricate tracking that would be required once the breeding programs started. Bret even seemed more willing to be involved in the day to day progress that Pauly and his crew were making.

Bart got word that one of the breeders in Killeen had a young stallion that was showing promise, and the brothers decided to make the trip. Bret convinced Ginny to spend the time they'd be gone in town with Doralice. Ginny was promised three days of sitting and resting her feet, and the Pinkerton Director jumped at the chance to do just that.

The following morning Bret and Bart kissed their wives goodbye and left for Killeen. Bart was hopeful and excited; everything he'd heard about the horse led him to believe this might be the one he was looking for. Bret's mind was less occupied by stallion and more occupied by impending birth.

They were destined to be disappointed; the horse wasn't at all what Bart had expected. Short in stature and spindly–legged on top of it, Bart wondered how anyone could have referred to him as 'substantial.' Still, they had no stud of any kind and the animal was pure Arabian, so they agreed on a price with the owner. With another year to fill out, he might prove useful with the second-string mares. They spent the rest of the afternoon perusing the two-year-old fillies and bought two distantly related sweet-tempered purebreeds, a grey with white stockings and a coal black, long-legged beauty that seemed incapable of standing still. The grey immediately became Lucinda, the black was named Bandit.

Bandit was pure quarter horse, Lucinda an Arabian. Bart put all five horses up at the livery while Bret got them a room at the small hotel in town. After a quick supper they wandered into the saloon and played a little blackjack; there were no poker tables. Bart was worn out and went back to the room to sleep. Bret stayed a while longer and won several hundred dollars. Evidently his winning streak wasn't confined strictly to poker.

Sometime later in the morning Bret woke with a start and realized he was alone in the hotel room. He dressed and packed quickly and went straight to the restaurant, where he found his brother drinking coffee and reading the paper. As soon as Bart saw him, he put the paper down. "I wondered if you was gonna sleep all day."

"You coulda woken me up, you know."

Bart caught the waitress's eye and motioned her over to the table. "Coffee for my brother, and bring him what you're bringin' me, only double it." She hurried off and was back in just a minute with the coffee pot.

"Anything interesting in the paper?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. They're havin' a big livestock auction here on the third of next month. Sounds like it'd be worth our while to get back down here. If you can't come then, I think I oughtta bring Doralice with me."

"Probably too close to the baby, but we'll see."

"Sorry we came down here for nothin'."

Bret's eyes got big when he saw the size of the breakfast that Bart ordered for him. "What are you tryin' to do to me, Brother Bart?"

Bart grinned. "Keep you fed so we can leave for home."

"You afraid I'd eat one of the fillies on the way?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Speaking of the fillies, where do you wanna put them? I've got room for them."

Bart looked up from his breakfast. "How about the two mares I've got at the livery? They'd be better off if they could all be together. We've got a pretty good second-string right now. By the time Pauly gets through with the ranch, our little stud may be filled out enough to handle the ladies."

"I think so. We can put 'em in the big corral and move Murphy to the small barn. We're about done with room to keep any more, though. It might be a good idea to get some of the men started on the general barn and a paddock or two before they build Pappy's house, don't you think?"

The younger brother nodded in agreement. "I think we better hold off on buyin' any more stock unless we find our stud, too. We're gonna be spread too thin with you and the second-string mares at the ranch, and me still in town."

"Agreed." Bret put down his fork and picked up his coffee cup. "This'll work a whole lot better when we're all in one place."

"Amen."

XXXXXXXX

It was dark outside by the time Bret and Bart reached Little Bend. The new stock had been placed in the big corral, and Murphy and the two-year-old stallion were now 'bunking' together. "Why don't you stay here tonight and you can all go back home in the mornin'?" Bart asked as they reached the front door of his house.

Bret nodded in agreement. It was a good plan. "That works for me. I'm too tired to load everybody in the wagon, anyway. And I can take the mares back with me."

"I'm gonna ride out in the morning and see how Pauly's comin', then I'll come back to the saloon."

"How much longer you gonna hafta be there full time?" Bret asked.

"About another week," Bart replied. "Then I should be able to get to the ranch."

"Alright. If need be, you and me can build a temporary corral for the stock at the ranch."

"Look who's back," Ginny called from her seat on the settee as the men came in the door.

"Just in time for supper," Doralice added from the kitchen as she stirred whatever was in the big pot.

"Awful late to be eatin', isn't it?"

"Yes, but there's a reason for that. We fed the children and put them to bed first," the mistress of the house explained.

"What about Pappy and Maude?" Bret asked.

"They decided to go to the saloon. And Lily Mae is at a church social. Sit down and I'll bring you both some coffee."

"How'd the trip go? Did you find a stallion?" Ginny swung her legs down from the settee so her husband could sit next to her.

"Yes and no," Bret answered. "We got one, but he's probably gonna be a second-stringer. Bought two fillies, too. Lucinda and Bandit. They're pure breeds."

"And the stallion?" Doralice questioned when she brought in steaming cups of coffee.

"Pure Arabian, but he's on the small side," Bart told his wife. "We left 'em at the ranch. That's why we're home so late. Is that beef stew I smell?"

"Yes, sir, it is. Are you hungry?"

"Ain't had nothin' since breakfast, so I would say the answer is yes."

Ginny wiggled and moaned a little, and Bret watched her with concern. "How are you doin'?"

"Better, after almost three full days off my feet. It's just what I needed."

"Good, we'll see if we can keep you off your feet for a while. You hear anything from Pauly while we were gone?"

"Not a word. That must mean things are going right out at the build." Ginny laid her head on Bret's shoulder and sighed. "Sure would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"I don't see any reason for it to be any other way," Bart proclaimed. "We've got it all pretty much mapped out. Of course, we may need a spare corral or two before we're done. I'll have a better idea in the morning. I'm goin' out to the ranch and then back to the saloon."

"Better figure some way to take Maudie with you, then. She's feelin' left out of things, and you know how she gets when that happens."

"I'll take her with me. You keep Belle busy tomorrow mornin', and I'll trade you daughters when I get back to town. Deal?"

Doralice thought that a fair exchange. "Alright. But you can't just have Belle sittin' in your office while you work; you have to do somethin' with her."

Bret whispered in Ginny's ear, "Speakin' of babies, how's Junior comin' along?"

"Been a little feisty, daddy. I think he's about ready to make his entrance into the world."

"Oh, dear."

"Stew's ready for anybody that's hungry."

"That'd be us," Bart laughed, as he and Bret pushed and shoved each other as they raced to the kitchen table, just as they had when they were kids.

The Maverick wives looked at each other and shook their heads. "Some things never change, do they?" Doralice asked.

"Not with those two," Ginny replied.


	9. Go Now

Chapter 8 – Go Now

It was Saturday, and the little girl sitting on the horse next to him was his oldest child, Maude Belinda Maverick. She and her twin sister Belle would be nine years old in another month; he could hardly believe it. They'd taken one of their normal trips to the B Bar M Ranch to check on the progress being made on the construction of Bret's house – when the project started, it appeared to be a race between the completion of the house and the birth of Bret's third child. There'd been virtually no rainy season this year . . . which meant no interruptions, and it appeared the house would be done before the baby was born.

Maudie came with her father on a regular basis, almost as involved in the construction of the ranch as Bart was. She'd made several suggestions for improvements that had already been implemented, and there were two or three more that were being considered. Bart wondered at first if she was really interested in the construction of the B Bar M, but she continued to watch the building as closely as he did. In addition, the brothers Maverick had taken some of their own time to lay out and build several of the corrals so they would have someplace to put the breeding stock they continued to acquire.

Once Bret's house was finished, the crew would be split into two pieces . . . the original group would begin building the next house, a residence for Pappy, and the splinter group would start on construction of the general barn.

Bret and Ginny were both sticking close to home for the time being . . . eagerly awaiting the arrival of their third child. Doralice continued to tease Ginny that it must be a boy since he was late being born. And then the race was over, as just today Pauly told Bart that the first house was finished!

"Somebody has to ride over to Uncle Bret's and tell him the house is finished. He'll want to start movin' in as soon as possible."

"Can I go, Daddy? I promise to be careful."

Bart looked at the child next to him, who was beginning to turn into a young lady. She'd already grown like a weed and was as tall as her mother. "Straight there and back? No dilly-dallying along the way."

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Alright, but if you're not back in twenty minutes I'll tan your hide."

Maudie wasted not a moment. She was riding her mother's horse, Candy, and she kicked him into gear and took off like the devil himself was after her. In less than two minutes she was down the road and out of sight. Bart chuckled and waved Pauly over to where he was sitting. "The house looks good. You got the last changes we made to Pappy's house, didn't you?"

"You mean the extra bedroom? And the water pump in the kitchen? Yessir, Mr. Bart, we got those. Mrs. Donovan don't require anything else, does she?"

"Better build in one of them 'bath rooms', too. That seems like a real practical idea."

Maude had gone back to being known as Mrs. Donovan sometime after Cristian died; it was easier than Mrs. de la Torres. And nobody was shocked that she and Beauregard intended on living together, only with a spare bedroom . . . just in case. It was unknown if they loved each other for sure, but they were comfortable together, and there had always been a flirtatious attraction between the two of them. At their ages it was preferable to being alone.

Bart wanted to see inside the completed house but decided to wait for his brother. Some fifteen minutes later Bret and Maudie came into view, and Bart got down and tied Blue up to the hitching rail. "It's really finished?" Bret asked, almost out of breath.

"So says the man that built it."

"Good, let's go have a look. Come on, Maudie, you come in, too."

Maude slid down off her mother's horse and tied him with the others. It was a nice size house, with three large bedrooms and a big kitchen with an indoor water pump. And it had the rather unique 'bath room' attached outside of the kitchen, in the very back of the house. There were windows in every room and two fireplaces – one in the front room and one in the back bedroom, the one that would be Bret and Ginny's. Bret was pleased.

"Can I start movin' things in, like right now?" the new owner asked.

"Don't see why not," his brother replied.

"Maudie, I need you to do Uncle Bret a favor. Ride back to town and send your momma out to my old house to stay with your Aunt Ginny. Just your momma, honey, and not any of your brothers or sisters. Tell her to get there as soon as she can. Go on, go now." Bret waited until Maude's horse could no longer be heard, then turned to Bart. "Come on, we're gonna go get as much of the furniture and personal stuff as we can."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that," Bart moaned. "Do we have to?"

"Yes. I want Ginny in the new house when the baby's born."

Bret and Bart needn't have hurried. It was almost a week later before Bodeen Joshua Maverick made his way into this world, the second and last son of Bret and Ginny Maverick.


	10. Newcomers

Chapter 9 – Newcomers

"Lord, that must be the sweetest child that ever got born!" Lily Mae declared after spending two weeks with Ginny and the new baby. "He don't cry, he don't fuss, he don't do nothin' but lay there and smile at you."

"I had two like that – Belle and Breton. It makes you wonder what's wrong with the rest of them!" Doralice laughed. "How was Ginny when you left this morning?"

"Happy. Peaceful. Glad to be in the new house. Now she says she can't wait for our house to be built."

Doralice nodded and smiled. "I can't either. It'll be so nice to be close to them. And Maude's been excited about the move, too. She seems so much more alive when she's around Beauregard."

"Who woulda thought . . . after all these years."

"It's the best thing that coulda happened to the both of them. Beauregard's like a kid again. And momma . . . it's so nice to see her smiling and happy."

"Mr. B said Pauly's got the house almost done."

"Just a couple more days, Lily Mae. Then we can get them all moved in and see if this is really gonna work."

Maude entered the kitchen just in time to question Doralice. "If what's gonna work?"

"You and Beauregard living together."

Maude threw her head back and laughed. "Of course it'll work. I've been tryin' to get my hands on that old reprobate for years and years. You don't think I'm gonna miss my chance, do you?"

"Are you sure that's what you really want? He's not willing to get married, you know."

Maude practically snorted. "Married? Who cares about married? You see what that gets you, don'tcha?"

"Alright, I just wanted to be sure. You two are old enough to do whatever you want, anyway."

"Damn straight," Maude replied. "You and Bart's married, and what have you gotten out of it? Five kids and a man that don't love you anymore."

"That's crazy, Maude. We love each other just as much now as we ever did. Maybe more."

"You just watch out, daughter. There's a new woman in his life. She looks just like you, too, only she's way younger. And a whole lot prettier."

Doralice paid no attention to her mother, and went about the task she was about to perform. She had to do an inventory of the chickens, so she and Ginny could determine how many hens to order from the Emporium. Wilcox had built them an epic henhouse, one that sat directly behind their new home, and it was time to make sure the thing was well-stocked. They were probably going to need twice as many as she and the girls were raising now. What did her mother mean, there was a new woman in Bart's life that looked just like her? And when should she order the new chicks?

She shook her head, trying to clear it of any thoughts her mother had put in there. There was no new woman in Bart's life . . . that was just ridiculous. But he had been spending more hours than normal at the saloon, even after he insisted he was going to cut his time back . . . and she had noticed some blonde hair on his coat . . . hair that wasn't hers . . . and then . . . what was she doing? Her loving husband would never do something like that, not her Bart. What was her mother trying to do, anyway?

"Doralice? Honey, you alright?" It was Lily Mae's voice, bringing her back to reality.

"Lily Mae . . . " Doralice started, then stopped; then started again. "Would Bart ever . . . oh, never mind."

Lily Mae gave Doralice a 'what are you thinkin' look and just shook her head. "You know better than that, girl. The man adores you; he simply wouldn't do somethin' like that."

A minute later, Doralice agreed. "No, he wouldn't. You're right, of course. Mother is imagining things." Doralice stopped as she ran over everything Maude told her, and some things she'd figured out for herself. "Or is she? Maybe she's not as far off with her speculation as we think she is. Lily, what if I told you I believe her?"

Lily Mae stood there with her mouth open and stared at Doralice. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am. Think about this for a moment. Blonde. Younger looking than me, and taller, too. There are two of them in this very house, and I have no doubt that he loves both of them very much."

The light came on in Lily Mae's head, and the two women started laughing at the same moment. "I don't think you need to be jealous of your own daughters," Lily insisted bluntly.

"I do believe you're right," Doralice agreed. "He loves the copies, but I still think he prefers the original."

Lily Mae blushed, knowing exactly what Doralice meant. "I'm sure you're right."

XXXXXXXX

Now that they were moved into the new house, things were a lot more calm and peaceful. Grace had her own bedroom, while Bartley was content to share his with his new baby brother. Bret and Ginny had a lovely room to themselves once again, and there was actually a spare room. The large front room was twice the size of the old one, as was the kitchen. Pauly had built Ginny a massive pantry for food storage, and one of the most beautiful fireplaces she'd ever seen. The house reminded Bret of the little house they'd grown up in, only this one actually had enough room for three active children.

Make that two active children. Bodeen, or Bodie as everyone was calling him, was just as Lily Mae had labeled him – the sweetest child ever born. He didn't fuss, he didn't cry, he smiled and cooed and seemed fascinated with anyone that peered at him over the sides of his bassinet. He was a quiet baby, content to lie still and watch the world go by for hours at a time. His mother feared he might be 'slow' or 'dim-witted,' but he seemed interested in anything that moved, or made noise of any kind. "He's a thinker," Grace declared, and the moniker stuck.

All of the animals, including the horses, were moved to the B Bar M. Grace was a natural on Murphy and rode him every day, whether she had a lesson with her father or not. On those days when Bret was off playing poker, Uncle Bart took over and held riding classes for anyone that was interested.

Bart was in town taking care of some paperwork at the saloon that required his signature when Billy showed up in his office. "I thought you told me your brother wouldn't play poker here at Maude's."

Bart nodded. "Not usually. You talkin' about that game goin' on in the back room? That's a private game. Set up a month ago by invitation only. Maude's provided the room and the dealer and we get five percent off the top as a fee. We got no money involved in it."

"How long they have the room for?"

"Till they're tired of it. Willie made the deal. Why? What's goin' on in there?"

A big grin spread across Billy's face. "Your brother's cleanin' up. Asked me to come get you."

"Did he say what for?"

"Just that he needed you for somethin'."

Bart folded the papers he'd signed and handed them to Billy. "Here's the contracts for the liquor deliveries. Make sure Lonnie gets those next time he comes in." He sighed and stood up. "Guess I better go see what brother Bret wants before he gives the place away."

Billy pocketed the contracts and led the way back to the room. By the time they got there the only two still playing were Bret and Stan Ledbetter, a horse breeder from up north. "What's it gonna be, Stan?" Bret asked just as Bart and Billy entered the room.

Ledbetter was counting the stack of bills in front of him. "There's your eight, and I'll raise you ten more."

Bret shook his head. "You ain't got that much, Stan."

"Not in cash. But I've got the papers on Cantaro, and he's been valued at fifty-five hundred dollars."

"And just who's Cantaro?" Bret asked.

Bart was immediately paying attention. If this was the horse he thought it was . . .

"Three-year-old pure-bred Arabian stallion. Sire's Lee's Pride, dam's Lady Cantaro. I was on my way to Claytonville to see about sellin' him to a breeder lives there. What do you say?"

Bret looked at his brother, who nodded vigorously. "I'll call," Bret answered calmly.

"You're short," Stan declared, looking at the stack of money Bret put in the pot.

"We'll back the play. That's about four grand," Bart spoke up quickly. He'd seen Bret's hand already – four nines. That was good enough for him.

"And just who's doin' the backin'?" Stan hadn't even looked up from his cards.

"Maude's."

"Good enough. Full house, Queen's up."

Bret never said a word, just laid down his nine's. Stan shook his head. "Who do I make the Bill of Sale out to?"

"B Bar M Ranch," Bret said, and grinned. "You got him with you?"

"He's over at the livery," came the reply.

Bret grinned even bigger as he raked in the pot in the middle of the table. "Brother Bart, let's go look at our horse." He put the money in his wallet, and the brothers hurried out of the saloon and up the street to the livery.

'


	11. Short on the Call

Chapter 10 – Short on the Call

"Say somethin', Bart." The brothers Maverick had been standing at the stall door for more than five minutes, and the only sound made by Bart was a 'gasp' when he got his first look at the occupant. The stall held the most magnificent black stallion the younger Maverick had ever laid eyes on. Bigger than the average Arabian at sixteen hands and twelve hundred pounds, he stood in the center of his enclosure and eyed the two men warily.

"Oh . . . my . . . God," Bart breathed at last. "I can't believe . . . I just can't believe . . . "

"That I got him in a poker game? Now you know why I wanted you there. I needed your backing to win."

"God,Bret, he's exactly what I've been lookin' for. Did you know . . . ?"

"All I knew was that Stan was comin' down with an Arabian stallion to sell, and he wanted in the game bad. So I turned it all over to Willie to get arranged, and he made it happen. I take it we done good."

"Good? That's as close to perfect as I've ever seen. He's just what we need to get the breeding program started."

The horse snorted and stamped his front hoof, then slowly made his way over to Bart. He stuck his nose through the boards on the stall door and smelled the gambler, then snorted again. He did his best to nuzzle the younger man, as if he was looking for something. Not finding anything to his liking, he raised his head over the top of the door and stared eye to eye with the saloon manager. "Look at that," Bret practically laughed. "I win him and he goes straight to you."

"What can I say? He has good taste. Are we gonna take him home tonight? If we do, he has to go in the breeding barn."

"I think we better. I don't wanna leave somebody that looks like him at the livery for two or three days. Especially after everybody in that room heard what he's worth. You got work to take care of at the saloon, or can you leave now?"

Bart stared at their future, and the stallion stared back. "I need to take care of one more thing, then I can go. You get the horses saddled and I'll be back in a few minutes." Bart left the livery and hurried back to the saloon. He retrieved a piece of paper from his desk, locked his office door, and found Billy. "I'll be back in on Tuesday. You need anything before then, I'm at the ranch. And Billy . . . don't say any more than you have to about the game. Not to anybody."

"Got it. Somebody already come by the office, askin' for Mr. Ledbetter. Told him the game was over and Ledbetter was gone, and that I didn't know any more."

"Good man. Me and Bret are takin' the stallion back to the ranch. Everybody's paid for now, just so you know."

Bret was just finishing when Bart returned. "You take him. He doesn't seem real fond of me." He handed the lead over to his brother, and Cantaro followed Bart out of the stall. He tossed his head once or twice and whinnied, almost as if asking directions. The stallion moved up alongside Blue and nuzzled her, then seemed to settle down and stood quietly.

"Are we ready?" Bret asked as soon as he mounted.

"I am," Bart answered. He looked down at Cantaro. "Are you?" he asked the horse. A toss of the head and a brief nicker followed. "I guess we're ready."

Forty-five minutes later Cantaro was standing inside the biggest stall they had in the breeding barn. Bart started to lead Blue away, but the big black raised such a fuss that she was bedded down for the night right next to him. "Well, I guess he's picked his neighbor."

"He does seem to be determined to get his own way, doesn't he?" Bret asked.

"Hasn't had any problem so far. He seems to know he's the boss. At least he's more settled with Blue next to him."

"Temperamental, ain't he?"

Bart shook his head. "Not more than any other Arabian stallion I've been around. Look at what he's just been through. Brought all the way down from Amarillo, stuck in how many different liveries, then all of a sudden he's got the two of us starin' at him. Next thing he knows he's gettin' hauled off to who knows where again. And the only friendly face he's seen is Blue. I'd probably be a little testy, too."

"Hell, you'd be a lot testy. Let's go explain the newest member of the family." As they walked out of the barn and into the sunlight, Bret noticed Bart's buggy pulled up next to the house. "Looks like your wife came to visit today. Good, then we only have to tell the story once."

"That's what you think," Bart responded. "I've got three . . . no four more at home to explain it to."

The house was relatively quiet for containing five children under the age of four. Bret was the first to speak. "Maybe they're all tied up." There was a loud giggle from the kitchen, followed by Ginny's voice.

"They've been waiting for you two to come in here and explain just what you brought home." Pause. "You do have an explanation, don't you?"

"That, my darlings," Bart answered as they joined everyone in the kitchen, "is our future. His name is Cantaro, and he's pureblood Arabian." He draped his arm over Bret's shoulders. "And his presence here is due to one man and one man only. A man who single-handedly provided the B Bar M with its biggest asset . . . "

Grace interrupted. "Daddy, did you win him at poker?"

Bret nodded and picked his daughter up. "I did, my darling. And Uncle Bart helped. But that makes him even more valuable than if we'd bought him. And now he's gonna help us build our ranch into exactly what we want it to be. Isn't that exciting?"

"How did Bart help?" Doralice asked out of curiosity.

Bret's answer was serious. "I was short on the call. Bart guaranteed the hand. Without him there'd be no Cantaro."

Doralice had been holding the newest Maverick; now she handed Bodie back to his mother and stood up, putting her arms around her husband. "And he's what you've been looking for?"

"He is," Bart nodded. "I know the bloodline. He's big, and he should have a lot of endurance."

"Can we see him, Uncle Bart?" Grace asked sweetly.

"I think we better wait until tomorrow. He needs some time to settle down tonight."

"But he's all alone," Breton protested.

"No, son, he's not. He seemed to take to Blue, so she's in the stall next to his. We'll see how he is in the morning; maybe everyone can meet him then."

Breton looked disappointed but nodded his head. He took Lily by the hand and followed Grace and Bartley back into the bedroom.

"I've got a fresh pot of coffee if anybody wants some." Ginny's offer caused general laughter among the adults, and Doralice went to the pantry and handed out cups.

"Do we really have to wait until tomorrow to see him?" Doralice asked.

Bret shook his head. "No, but Bart was right makin' the little ones wait. He's just a little skittish right now and a quiet night will probably do him some good."

"What's his name again?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Cantaro." Bart set his coffee down on the table. "Here, let me see that bundle." He reached over and took his youngest nephew in his arms. Bodie smiled up at Bart and gurgled. "What did you have to do to get one this happy?" he asked, thinking about the days when Maudie had colic and screamed almost constantly.

"I sold my soul to the devil," Bret laughed. "Ladies, why don't you come with me and we can take a quick look at the new man of the house."

"Good idea. I think this one's about to go to sleep." Bart rocked the baby gently, and Bodie began to drift off. It wasn't long before they were the only ones left sitting in the kitchen.


	12. The Best Daddy

Chapter 11 – The Best Daddy

Bart did tell the story again, once everyone was home, but he only told it once. He had the twins and Beauregard there to hear the tale, and Lily Mae hung on every word, just the way she had when Bret and Bart were kids and telling one of their tall tales.

"Is he beautiful, daddy?" Maudie asked, not doubting for a moment that he was.

"He's beyond beautiful honey; he's magnificent."

"When do I get to see him?" she pressed.

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Does that mean we can go tomorrow? I would just about die if we could."

Bart did his best not to laugh. "If you promise me you won't just about die, I'll take you out there tomorrow. But we have to take Belle and Beauregard, too."

Her face fell for a minute, but she recovered quickly. Five minutes would be the extent of their attention, and then she'd have him all to herself. "They're not interested, you know."

"Don't you think you should let them decide that for themselves?"

"I will, daddy. But Belle cares more about the chickens, and Beauregard wants to play poker, just like you and Uncle Bret. You wait and see." Maudie gave her father a kiss on the cheek and disappeared into her bedroom.

Bart wondered how she and her sister could be so much alike, yet so different. If the girls stood next to each other and didn't speak, you couldn't tell them apart. Belle was quiet and shy, always willing to help wherever needed. She was indeed, more enamored of her mother's chickens than anything else. Then there was Maudie. He didn't know how or why her interest in the ranch had started, but she wanted to know everything that happened and how it affected each of the horses. And she'd been just as anxious as Bart was about finding a stud. The right stud.

Beauregard, God bless him, already had more skill with a deck of cards than any six-year-old should have. He was eager for a game of poker any time of the day or night and seemed to have little or no interest in the ranch. Nope, his oldest daughter was right . . . within five minutes of their arrival to see the new stallion, Belle and Beau would both be otherwise occupied.

Doralice appeared at his side, having already put the little ones to bed. "How wound-up is she?" Her question, of course, concerned Maude.

"She's about to jump out of her skin, blue-eyes. Who knew a young girl could be so excited about a horse?" Bart had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth than he remembered JoEllen McGinley, John McGinley's oldest daughter back in St. Louis when they were working for Pinkerton at the Busch Estate. JoEllen lived and breathed horses, especially Master's Pleasure, McGinley's Arabian stallion. "I take that back," Bart announced. "I ran into one in St. Louis. Maudie's just like her."

"She'll get over it, won't she?" her mother asked.

"I don't think so. Besides, what if she doesn't? Somebody's gotta run the place after we're gone. None of the boys seem so inclined."

"That's true. How did we raise such a mixed-up mess?"

"I don't know," Bart replied, as he pulled his wife close and kissed her. "But it's too late to worry about it now."

XXXXXXXX

It was almost noon on Saturday by the time Bart and Doralice got the whole brood, Lily Mae and Maude included, out to the ranch. Pappy and Maude went to inspect their house, which Pauly had just that morning announced was finished; everyone else went to Bret and Ginny's home. "I had an idea," Bret announced. "Let's take everybody in for five minutes, then if he's still calm we can let the oldest stay a little longer."

"Have you seen him this morning?" Bart asked.

"I have. I fed him earlier. He seemed steadier this morning. Blue's a good influence on him."

"Alright. Remember what I said yesterday, everybody. We have to be quiet and not scare him."

Bart led the way and stopped when they got to the barn door. "Shhhhh!" Everyone filed in silently and lined up in front of the stall. Cantaro's head came up and he watched each and every one as they tried to be as still as possible. It was no longer than a minute or two before Lily murmured "Pretty," but it didn't seem to disturb the horse. Breton took his little sister by the hand and led her back out of the barn. In just a few minutes everyone but Maudie and Bart had followed.

Finally the horse's curiosity got the best of him, and he shuffled over to the stall door. He stuck his nose through the slats in the door and his nostrils flared as he tried to catch Maudie's scent. She advanced her hand cautiously and allowed him to smell her before shifting his attention once again to Bart. This time the gambler hadn't come empty-handed, and when his fingers emerged from his coat pocket, they were wrapped around a carrot. Cantaro sniffed for a moment and then gently took the vegetable and pulled it to his side of the stall. When it was all gone he snorted and pawed the hay, asking for another.

"No, bud, I only brought one with me. I'll know better next time." The horse's head bobbed up and down, and he stood, eyeing the people in front of him, before turning towards Blue.

"You were right, daddy. He is magnificent." As soon as Maudie spoke, Cantaro turned his head back to her and stuck his muzzle as far as it would go through the stall door. The girl put her hand out and carefully stroked his nose as long as he would allow it. When he'd had his fill, he withdrew his muzzle and turned back to Blue.

"He seems to like you," the gambler told his daughter. "Make sure everybody's out of the corral and the gate's closed. I wanna let him stretch his legs for a while."

Maudie hurried to make sure the exits were secure and came right back. "Everything's closed and locked, daddy," she reported, and Bart opened the stall door for both Cantaro and Blue, who leisurely strolled out into the paddock. Cantaro hung back for a minute, eventually following the mare outside.

Father and daughter made their way out of the enclosure and watched as Blue found a patch of grass she liked and began to graze; Cantaro ran circles around her for a few minutes and then settled down right next to her. "He likes her, doesn't he?" Maudie asked.

"He does."

"Are they . . . friends?"

"I . . . I guess so, honey."

"Daddy, are you gonna take Blue back to town?"

"I was, yes." Bart wondered where all the questions were going.

"If you do that, Cantaro will be all alone."

Bart shook his head. "He won't be alone, Maudie. There are other horses here."

"But his friend won't be here."

"So I should leave Blue here? I need a horse in town, honey."

"Then take one of the other horses." Pause. "You don't want him to be lonely, do you, daddy?"

There was silence for a few minutes. Followed by a big sigh and the desire to not make his daughter unhappy. "No, baby doll. I don't want him to be lonely. I'll take somebody else home."

Maudie smiled and kissed Bart on the cheek. He really was the best daddy in the whole world.


	13. The Games Afoot

Chapter 12 – The Games Afoot

For a few days, at least, everything settled down into a peaceful rhythm. Maude and Pappy moved into their house, and everyone had to admit they seemed happy together. Pauly's construction crew began the third phase of the houses being built at the B Bar M, and the largest of the barns was underway. Packing was begun in earnest at Bart and Doralice's house; the twins celebrated their ninth birthday. And Cantaro quietly built his herd from the mares that came to belong to the ranch.

There was one last auction scheduled for San Antonio, and Bret and Bart made plans to attend. The younger Maverick was in need of a new horse; Blue had become the best friend and sole property of Cantaro. Doralice set up a system to track each of the broodmares, and Maudie used the same system on a smaller scale to keep tabs on the foals.

Bart had to laugh. Bret had insisted that he wouldn't build anything around the ranch, and yet more often than not he spent his days with one or another of Pauly's work crews. He grew hard and lean, and Ginny found she couldn't keep her hands off of him.

Bart had gone into Maude's early one morning to pay some last minute bills, and had only been at work some two or three hours when Bret came thundering into the saloon via the back door. "Was Cantaro in the big paddock when you left this morning?" His voice was frantic and there was a wild, almost panicked look in his eyes, like someone had just kidnapped one of his children. Bart and Doralice had gone to supper at Bret's house last night, and when the night ran late, they simply stayed over.

"I just turned him out before I came in here. Why?"

The expression on Bret's face reflected the desperate look in his eyes. "He's gone, Bart. Somebody stole him. And they took Blue with them. Tracks lead almost due east. I got a horse outside packed and ready to go. You with me?"

"Of course I am. We gotta get 'em back. Do the girls know?"

"They do. We checked to make sure he hadn't just broken out of the paddock. It was no accident, Bart. There were footprints leadin' them away."

"Damn. You think they'd head for the auction?"

The older brother nodded. "That's the logical place. Probably just went east first to throw us off track. You think we oughtta go straight to San Antone?"

Bart locked the office door behind him, then mounted the horse Bret provided. "Nope. Sure as we do that they'll pull a fast one on us. Better to follow the trail and find 'em."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Let's go."

They set off; back the same way Bret had come. Once they got to the ranch the trail was easy to follow; there was no attempt made to disguise the path the rustlers and their bounty had taken. They drifted about six miles due east and then began to wander south, until they got into the South Creek Desert. Both men were convinced they were being led in circles, and they finally had to stop and make camp for the night when it got too dark to go any further. Supper was sparse, beans and some hardtack, and they tried to sleep without much success.

"Bart?"

"Yeah, Bret?"

"The auction in San Antone is in three days."

"I know that."

"You wanna try goin' straight there if we can't find their tracks?"

Bret thought his question hadn't been heard, and he was on the verge of repeating himself when his brother replied. "I think that's the path of least resistance, don't you?"

"Does that mean yes?"

Bart rolled over and tried to get comfortable, but comfortable wasn't to be found tonight. "Yeah, I think we should head straight for San Antone. That's the most logical place to get rid of him, especially with no Bill of Sale. It won't make any difference with Blue, but Cantaro's got to be a back-door deal."

"I'm sorry, Bart."

"What for, Bret? You didn't steal him."

"No, but it happened on my watch. I shoulda been payin' better attention. From now on, there's always somebody with him when he's out."

Bart sat up and poured himself a cup of coffee. "You want one?"

That brought a laugh from his brother. "Always. Thanks."

"You been doin' a lot of work buildin' stuff. Thought you weren't gonna do that."

"So did I. But it's been . . . interestin'."

"I'm surprised Pappy ain't givin' you hell about doin' it."

Bret grinned. "What Pappy don't know won't hurt him. Besides, he's been too busy with Maude to notice if it's day or night."

"After all these years."

"After all these years."

"Why now?"

"He's always had a thing for Maude. You know that. And now, with Ben in Baton Rouge and Cristian dead . . . and one more thing. Maude don't wanna get married."

"Well . . . as long as they're both happy."

"They seem to be. Maude sure sounds better these days."

Bart stood up and threw the rest of his coffee in the fire. "It's almost sunrise. Whatta say we head for San Antone and see if we can find our horse?"

Bret smiled when Bart referred to Cantaro as 'our horse.' "Sounds like a good idea to me."

XXXXXXXX

San Antonio was full of people. The livestock auction was scheduled to begin the next afternoon, and Bret and Bart decided to split up and try to visit as many herds for sale as possible. They started with the smallest groups and kept at it all day, paying particular attention to anyone advertising Arabians or any black stallion for sale.

Bret heard of a black Arabian stallion for sale on the east end of San Antonio, and immediately went looking for Joe Baxter, the man with the horse. When Bret finally found Baxter, the stallion was only part Arabian and was a muddy brown color.

They kept searching until three in the morning and finally went back to the livery where they'd stabled their own horses earlier. Having nowhere else to spend what was left of the night, the brothers bedded down with their mounts. Which is where they still were when a boy of about seventeen brought in a very familiar blue roan mare. Who whinnied when she caught sight of Bart, and continued to carry on until she'd woken both sleeping men. Bret was up with his gun drawn when Bart called out, "Blue!" and the little mare simply walked away from the boy.

"Where'd you get the mare, son?" Bart asked when the young man came after the horse.

"From . . . from my pa," came the reply.

"Who's your pa?" Bret demanded.

"Bobby . . . Bobby Demerest."

"Is he buyin' or sellin'?"

"He's buyin', mister."

"And where is he now?"

"He's tryin' to buy the mare's stablemate."

Bret and Bart exchanged meaningful looks. "That wouldn't happen to be a black stallion, would it?"

The boy nodded. "But the man sellin' the stallion wants too much money."

"And just who would that be, son?" Bret asked, not expecting the answer he was about to receive.

"Stan Ledbetter."


	14. Lost and Found

Chapter 13 – Lost and Found

The boy's name was Tim. Tim Demerest, and he seemed like a good kid. He stayed at the livery with Blue and Bret and the gun, and answered every question Maverick had about his father and the potential sale and Stan Ledbetter, while Bart went to get the marshal. The sun was on the verge of rising by the time Bart returned with Marshal Jolly Webster. "You know this Ledbetter fella?" the marshal questioned Bret.

"Not real well. I played poker with him half a dozen times. He played cards honest. Far as I knew, he was a horse trader and broker. We got a bill of sale on the stallion."

"Tim, has your pa done business with Ledbetter before?"

"I don't know, marshal. This is the first time I've ever seen him."

"Alright, bring the roan with you. We'll see if we can get this all straightened out. Mr. Maverick and Mr. Maverick, if you would."

It took about ten minutes to get to Bobby Demarest's office, and there was no sign of Stan, Bobby or Cantaro. Blue whinnied two or three times but got no answer. "Any ideas?" Marshal Webster questioned.

"They were all here when I left with the mare. I was supposed to put her up for the night because we had no place to keep her. I got no clue where they are now. Honest, Marshal."

"I'm gonna check around back. Bobby's got a couple stalls back there. You two stay up here with Tim."

The marshal was gone for about ten minutes, and he was shakin' his head when he came back. "Tim . . . I found your dad."

"Is the horse there, too?" The boy didn't understand what Webster was tryin' to tell him, but Bart and Bret did.

"Cantaro and the money's gone?" Bret asked.

"Yeah. Tim, your dad's dead."

"He . . . what? NO!" And the boy was gone around back before Webster could catch him. There was a stifled groan, then all was quiet.

Blue stamped her foot and shook her head, nudging Bart in the process. He stroked her muzzle and whispered in her ear. "Marshal Webster, Blue is goin' with us. You got any objections?"

The lawman shook his head. He had enough problems at the moment – a dead man, an orphaned teenager, and a valuable horse missing. Not to mention the man that tied them all together, Stan Ledbetter. "Nope, as long as you keep me appraised about anything you find. And don't leave town without lettin' me know."

"You got it, marshal." Bret shook hands with Webster while Bart led Blue away, back towards the livery. She still seemed slightly rattled, as if Cantaro was close, but made no further attempt to do anything other than follow Bart's lead.

"Where do we go from here, big brother?"

Bret rubbed his chin in frustration. "I can only guess, Bart. There's two big auctions at three o'clock this afternoon. You go to the one at the Barlow spread, and I'll check out the Yancy place. Maybe we can pick up some gossip that'll give us a direction."

"This is turnin' out to be pretty hopeless, ain't it?"

"Right now, I'd have to agree with you. But just in case . . . "

They stopped at the livery entrance to make sure everything was clearly understood. "She's not for sale or trade. She's ours, and the only place she's goin' is back to Little Bend. And if anybody comes in here with a black stallion, you let us know who it is and where they can be found. You take care of that for us, Boone, and there'll be a nice bonus when we leave. Got it?"

Ed Boone nodded his head. He owned the place and made sure the client always got what they wanted. "Yes, sir, I got it. We'll get yer horse back for ya."

Bret once again saddled the horses while Bart took care of the mare. As soon as their mounts were ready, the brothers headed out to check on the few places with sales going on besides the Barlow and Yancy ranches. Bart had no luck; none of the spreads had seen or heard anything about a black stud or an Arabian stallion. Bret stopped at a little ranch just down the road from Yancy's to water his horse and spent a few minutes talking to the foreman. "Black stallion, ya say? Wouldn't happen to be an Arabian, would it? I didn't see him myself, but my lead man said there was supposed to be somebody that matched that description for sale at Yancy's this afternoon. I'd hurry if I was you, somethin' like that don't last very long in these here parts. Yeah, Yancy's is about three miles from here, down the road."

Bret wasted no time getting down to Yancy's and was surprised to find the auction had already started. He was even more surprised when he spotted the animal to be bid on next, tucked away in a far corner of the corral. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, it was Cantaro. He found a place to tie his horse and got as close as he could to the next horse for sale. There was no doubt; it was the Arabian they'd been looking for.

He looked around the crowd to see if he could locate anyone he'd already told the story to or anyone that looked like John Law. No such luck. He'd just have to take his chances.

A few minutes later the first auction was done, and a ranch employee was dispatched back to the corral to retrieve the stallion. There was quite a bit of interest until the price got up to twenty-five hundred dollars, and then everyone but Bret and a young-looking well-dressed man dropped out. The bidding war was cutthroat until it peaked at five thousand dollars. That bid was Bret's.

The gambler waited, holding his breath, to see if he was further challenged. The younger man hesitated for almost five minutes before giving up and refusing to go any higher. When the gavel finally fell, Bret had succeeded in buying back the horse that had earlier in the week been stolen from them.

He had a firm grip on Cantaro's halter and was closing the deal when Bart rode up with Marshal Webster in tow. "Thought I'd come along just in case," Jolly announced. "Who left this horse with the auctioneer?"

"Danny Amura," called the man that had been barely outbid for Cantaro. "At least he said that was his name. Something wrong with the sale, marshal?" There was a note of hope in the man's voice; with any luck, the sale would be null and void, and he might have another chance at the horse.

"Nothin' you can fix, Eddie. Anybody know who this Amura fella is?" The only thing heard in the crowd was a low murmur, until one of the Yancy employee's stepped forward.

"Amura said he worked for Ledbetter, that Stan got tied up someplace else and couldn't get here for the auction."

"What'd Amura look like?" Bret asked.

"About your age, not quite as tall. A little heavier, with lighter hair and a mustache. Had a little bit of a Northern accent."

Bart looked stunned, and Bret shook his head. "That ain't nobody named Amura. That's Stan Ledbetter. Figured he could come back here and collect his fees, and nobody'd be the wiser."

"That explains posin' as Danny Amura. But why kill Bobby Demerest? All he had to do was tell the man he'd changed his mind, and bring the horse out here to sell." Marshal Webster looked and sounded just as confused as the rest of them.

"Demerest must have had the cash on him already. And Stan couldn't resist the idea of all that money. Especially after what he lost playin' poker in Little Bend." Bart shook his head and turned to the marshal. "You need us to sign statements about all this?"

"Yea, I do. I'll need one from your sheriff, too. His name's Parker, right? I'll send him a telegram today. Gonna be tomorrow before I can get statements written up for the two of you. After that you can go back to Little Bend, with the horses. You gonna get a hotel room for tonight?"

That was an appealing thought, and the brothers exchanged glances, but both knew that as long as Ledbetter was out there, Cantaro was still at risk. "Nope, marshal. I think we better stay with the horses tonight."

Bret nodded in agreement. "Just to be safe, you understand."

"Your choice. I can send a deputy over so you can get somethin' to eat if you want."

Both heads nodded in unison. "We'd appreciate that."

"Alright. Billy Cole. He'll be there in less than an hour. And he'll stay until you come back."

"Say, Webster," Bret started, "what are you gonna do with the kid?"

"Demerest? Got no idea."

"Why don't you send him over with the deputy? We'll take him to dinner with us."

"I'll do that. Thanks."

"What are you doin', brother Bret?"

There was a look of uncertainty in the older brother's eyes. "I . . . don't know, exactly. I guess I just felt sorry for him."

"I'll take Cantaro back to the livery. You go send a wire to the girls – let 'em know we got the horses back and we'll be on our way tomorrow. And you can figure out what to do with the kid."

"Hey, I just offered to feed him. He doesn't need to be by himself right now."

"Just remember, that one's too old to adopt." Bart chuckled, took Cantaro's lead from his brother, and mounted.

Bret was right behind him. "Don't be too sure about that," he muttered under his breath.


	15. World in Changes

Chapter 14 – World in Changes

"I'm not . . . I don't wanna . . . I couldn't eat if I had to." Tim Demerest was lost and didn't have the faintest idea how he got that way. One minute he was taking the blue roan mare to Boone's Livery to be boarded there temporarily, and the next minute he was staring down at the lifeless body of his father. And now he was sitting in Ana's Café with two men that he'd never met before, doing his best to make some kind of sense out of the last twelve hours.

"You have to eat something," the black-haired one insisted. Tim thought this was the older of the two men, and if he remembered correctly, they were brothers. They didn't look exactly alike, but there was enough of a resemblance to believe in the brother theory. They were comfortable with each other in a way that strangers never were. "Did Jolly introduce you as brothers?"

"The marshal?" The younger one asked. "Yeah, he did. I'm Bart, that's my brother Bret. We live in Little Bend. You're what, fifteen, sixteen? You got any relatives in town?"

"No, nobody but me and pa. Ma died when I was little, and it's just been us since then. And now . . . why would somebody shoot him? Somebody we didn't even know? Over a horse he was tryin' to buy? It ain't fair. It just ain't fair." He was calm but miserable. He couldn't run the business by himself, he was . . . "fifteen. I just turned fifteen last month. I got no relatives, here or anyplace else. What do I do now?"

Lacking anything else to do at this exact moment, Tim put his arms down on the table and buried his face in them. Bret instinctively laid his hand on the boy's arm to try and offer some comfort; Tim sat up straight and looked at the stranger. "Why are you bein' so nice to me? What do you want?"

"Good questions, Bret. Why are you bein' so nice to the kid?"

The answer was quick and snappy. It was said in a _'don't question me'_ tone of voice. "Because I've got a younger brother that went through the same kinda hell when his mother died. And I remember the hurt and the pain he felt, and what little it took to comfort him. And I thought maybe . . . just maybe . . . "

A hand reached out and touched Bret's hand, the one that rested on Tim's arm. "Don't go any further," Bart murmured. "I understand."

"I thought you might." Bret turned his attention back to Tim. "We both know what it's like to love somebody . . . and lose them. And sometimes all you have is the comfort of a stranger . . ." There was a long pause before Bret continued . . . "and you're glad for that . . . I don't want anything from you, Tim. I just wanted you to know that somebody cares . . . even if it is a stranger."

"Sorry, Mr. Maverick . . . uh, Bret. I just . . . I thought maybe . . . I don't know what I thought. My dad . . . my dad was everything to me. He was a good man that worked hard to make a life for us . . . and now there ain't nothin' . . . left, and I don't know where I'll go . . . or what I'll do. I've worked with horses my whole life, but we sure don't need no more horse men here in San Antone. Besides, where would I live?"

Bret and Bart exchanged meaningful looks; Bart shook his head ' _no_.' Bret ignored his brother completely and plunged ahead. "We're still workin' on buildin' the B Bar M up in Little Bend. We're gonna raise crossbreeds. You could come back to Little Bend and work for us."

Bart cupped his head in his hands and stared at his brother. What was Bret thinking of, anyway? Tim seemed like a good enough kid, but they'd just met him! Where was he gonna sleep? There was nothing built yet. And what exactly was Bret gonna do with him?

Demerest was wondering the same thing. He didn't know these men, had only met them less than twenty-four hours ago. Yet if he'd heard the one named Bret correctly, he'd been offered a place to live and a job. "I . . . I, uh . . . you . . . you don't even know me."

Bret wasn't sure what kept pushing him forward, but something convinced him this lost boy needed their help. _'Pickin' up strays,'_ he could hear Pappy chastising him. _'You're just pickin' up strays.'_ "Look, we're gonna need help gettin' Blue and Cantaro home. You got nowhere to go right now. Come back to Little Bend with us and stay for a couple weeks . . . see how things fall out. What have you got to lose?"

Tim looked at Bret, then at Bart. The younger brother finally nodded his head. ' _I don't know what you're doin', Bret, or why, but you got a reason for it somewhere.'_ "You might as well, Tim. You got no reason to stay here, do you?" Demerest shook his head. "You like kids?" A nod this time. "Good, we got a whole passel of 'em. We'll find a place for you somewhere."

The brothers were right. What did he have to lose? His head still spinning, he closed his eyes and agreed. "Alright. I'll go back with you. But I got a pony of my owns gotta go with me . . . well, he ain't no pony. His name's Hoover. Pa bought him for me a couple years ago. That alright by you?"

"Sure."

"Of course."

There was silence for a minute, then one or the other of the brothers asked, "Tim . . . what do you want to eat?"

XXXXXXXX

The marshal was surprised, but not that surprised. The Maverick brothers seemed like good men, reasonable men, and what little there was that belonged to Bobby Demerest could be easily disposed of and sent to Tim. Their house was rented, as was Bobby's office, and there was probably just enough in assets to pay off the bills. And they were offering him a place to live and a job. "I'd say it's a good idea, Tim. You can always come back here if things don't work out in Little Bend. Ain't got nothin' to lose, far as I can see."

"I'm gonna do it, Marshal. When everything gets settled, you send it up to me in Little Bend. I'll be leavin' this afternoon with Bret and Bart. You see any reason why I shouldn't go? Doc Jeffries says we can bury Pa here in an hour or so."

"Nope, Tim, that's all fine by me. Y'all go out and get your Pa taken care of, then they can come back and sign the statements I got for 'em. That's all I need from any of you."

"Thanks, Marshal."

Tim left the marshals office and went back to the livery. Bret was ready to go to breakfast; Bart was still half asleep. "Don't worry about him. You'll find out soon enough that the man runs mostly on coffee. We can go eat and send him for coffee when we're done."

"I . . . I can't, Mr. Bret. Pa's got to be buried and I . . . I can't go."

The final touch for Bret was to put on his hat – then he turned back around to face Tim. "You got anybody to go with you to get your Pa buried?"

"No, sir. Just me and the doc."

There was a flicker of something in Bret's eyes for just a moment, and then it was gone. "Let's go get coffee, then I'll go with you."

"You don't have to . . . "

"Coffee and the cemetery, Tim."

"Okay."

They found Bart sitting outside when they returned in the livery wagon about three hours later. "Cemetery?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Webster came by with our statements. He let me sign for you."

"We're free to go?" Bret asked.

"We're free to go."

"You send Boone for supplies?"

"I did, and paid him handsomely for them. Tim, there anything else you need before we leave here?"

"Did Ed get everything on my list?"

Bart nodded. "Yep, it's all in your saddlebags. You boys ready?"

Bret and the first employee of the B Bar M Ranch mounted; Bret took Cantaro's lead and Bart had Blue. The supply horse followed Tim. In two or three days he'd have a new home and a new life. And Cantaro would have a new bodyguard.


	16. Silent Night

Chapter 15 – Silent Night

"Momma! Momma! Daddy and Uncle Bart are home! And they brought a stranger with 'em!"

Ginny came hurrying out onto the front porch to see what all the fuss was about. Grace and Bartley were already there, watching an odd procession wind up the trail towards the house. It was indeed Bret and Bart, and they had Blue and Cantaro with them. They also had the aforementioned 'stranger,' a lad of maybe fifteen riding a paint pony almost as big as Cantaro. Ginny waved and Bret waved back.

Grace bounced up and down on her tiptoes, the way she did every time her daddy came home, and waited for him to get close enough to the house. When he was within just a few feet of the front porch, she ran out and waited for him to stop. The moment he did she scrambled up the stirrup and the fender of the saddle and crawled in front of him. She got to ride four or five feet with him, right on up to the hitching rail. Bartley stood on the porch like a perfect little gentleman and waited for Daddy to arrive.

Bret dismounted and lifted Grace down to the ground, then wrapped Ginny in his arms and kissed her passionately. "Hey, no fair!" Bart called from horseback.

When the lovers finally broke apart, Grace was lifted high into the air and given an enormous kiss. She squealed with unbridled delight and then asked her father seriously, "Who's the new boy, daddy?"

The 'new boy' and Uncle Bart dismounted and tied their horses to the hitching rail. While Bret was giving Bartley a hug, Brother Bart was kissing his sister-in-law on the cheek. "Regional Director Virginia Malone, of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, I'd like you to meet Tim Demerest, the very first employee of the B Bar M Ranch. Tim, Ginny is also Mrs. Bret Maverick, in case you haven't figured that out yet. This is Grace, and Bartley, and there's a third Maverick, named Bodeen, but he's too little to walk."

Tim removed his hat. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Maverick. And you too, Beautiful," he directed at Grace, who smiled and giggled. Tim shook hands with Bartley, and Grace found her way into her Daddy's arms, as usual. "I take it that's your house bein' built up the road?" Tim directed at Bart.

"That's it. Now you know why my family still lives in town. And that little house in between belongs to our Pappy, Beauregard, and his ladylove, the one and only Maude Donovan. You ever heard of Maude's in Little Bend?"

"Yes sir, hasn't everybody?"

"Well, Tim, Maude is my mother-in-law."

"I've got a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. Everybody come on in and get one," Ginny announced.

"Gonna put the horses in the barn for now. We'll be right in. Bret, you go ahead with Ginny. Come on, Tim, grab a dozen or so and follow me," Bart directed. Twenty minutes later, Bart and Tim made their way into the Maverick kitchen. Ginny had just put on a second pot and heated some leftover corn biscuits, and the four adults sat at the table and talked.

Bret and Bart took turns explaining what happened in San Antonio. When they'd finished, Ginny reached across the table to the newcomer and took both his hands in hers. "Bret did the right thing, Tim. At least here you've got a place to live, and food to eat, and something to keep you busy. We've always got room for one more, and once Bart's house is finished, there'll be a place for you there, too. You don't ever need to feel like you're alone, because you're not."

"Thank you, Mrs. Maverick. I sure do appreciate it, but for a while I'm gonna be sleepin' in the barn with Cantaro. There's a man out there somewhere that killed my pa, and stole them horses at least twice, and he's not gonna make it three times. Mr. Bart and me made a nice bed out there, and if y'all got a rifle or a shotgun and a spare blanket or two, that's where I'll spend tonight. That way them ponies are safe."

Bret had a different solution. "No, sir, I ain't puttin' no fifteen-year-old out in the barn with a shotgun. You'll sleep in the house – I'll sleep out there, until we can figure out what we're gonna do."

Bart stood up from the table and pushed his chair back. "I can tell you what I'm gonna do . . . at least tonight. I'm goin' home and get some sleep, then go talk to Parker in the morning. I'll be out as soon as I check on Maude's, and we can take it from there. You got the watch tonight, Brother Bret. I'll be here tomorrow. Be careful." He leaned over and kissed Ginny on the cheek. "Walk out with me, Tim."

Nothing was said between the two until they were almost inside the barn. "Look, Tim, I still don't know exactly what Bret's got in mind for you, but he's got a plan, and I trust him. I don't want you gettin' hurt in the meantime, so take it easy, alright? You don't have to be a hero. There's lots for you to do out here. I'll get you into town in the next couple days and you can meet my herd. The girls will love you."

Tim nodded. "I understand, Mr. Bart. And I sure do appreciate the chance to work out here. How many of them babies you got, anyway?"

"Five altogether. Twin daughters named Maude and Isabelle, a little old man that's all of six and a copy of our pappy, and the two youngest ones, Breton and Lily." He saw the look on Tim's face and grinned. "You'll understand why when you meet Doralice. She's the most gorgeous creature God ever made. You take care of my brother and them babies in there."

"What about Director Malone?"

Bart let out a laugh. "Director Malone can take care of herself."

XXXXXXXX

The scene was more or less repeated, minus the physical presence of the newcomer, when Bart got home. He was there just in time to help settle everyone in for the night, and it wasn't long before he and Doralice were in bed, too. "What are we gonna do with a fifteen-year-old orphan?" the blonde beauty asked.

"I don't know," her husband answered her. "Once the ranch is completed I'm sure we'll find plenty for him to do, but for right now it's gonna be tough. I guess he could help you pack things up, if nothin' else. He will come in handy, with all the work he's done with horses. You shoulda seen Bret . . . he couldn't just leave Tim there. Maybe he's finally got one to be pappy to besides me."

"That would please you, wouldn't it? By the way, I've been down to Maude's two or three times. Everything seems to be runnin' smoothly down there."

"Good," Bart replied quietly. "One less thing to worry about. Now if we can just catch Ledbetter . . . "

"Do you think he'll come back for Cantaro again?" There was no answer except for the soft breathing of the man lying in bed next to her. "Goodnight, gamblin' man," she whispered, and snuggled close to him. And for once, the night passed quietly.


	17. Old Reasons Rise

Chapter 16 – Old Reasons Rise

"You're back," Parker told Bart gleefully as they shook hands the next day. "I assume that means you got the horse back."

"Not just Cantaro . . . we got Blue back, too. And we've got a new member of the family – although I'm not sure who he belongs to." Bart wore an amused expression as he attempted to explain.

"Another horse?" the sheriff asked.

"Well, no." As he unwound the tale of Bobby Demerest and everything that happened in San Antonio, Dave's features grew grim. "And you're sure it was Stan Ledbetter that shot him?"

"Positive. So Bret thought we should bring his son back here with us . . . and that's how we got Tim. It wasn't a bad idea, Dave . . . Tim's just fifteen. He's gonna split time between the two households, at least until my place is finished and we've gotten moved out to the ranch. Then we'll see where he ends up. And if he doesn't want to stay, he can always go back to San Antone. But I'm worried about Ledbetter, Dave. And all the kids, Tim included. You got any ideas?"

The sheriff walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned back to Bart. "You want one?"

"Sure."

"Marshal Webster down there, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send a telegram and see what I can find out. In the meantime, keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary. And be careful, for God's sake, Bart. Man's already proven he's a killer, I don't wanna see it happen again."

Bart drank about half his coffee before continuing. "Anything happen at Maude's while we were gone?"

"Nope, quiet as could be. You got a good crew over there."

"I'm headed that way now, then on out to the ranch. Let me know if you hear anything from Webster."

Sheriff Parker's assessment was correct, at least when it came to Maude's. The deposits were made, the books were balanced, and everything was in order. Within an hour Bart was on his way out to the B Bar M. When he got there the first thing he saw was Pauly and Bret engaged in what looked like a deep discussion.

"Hey, you two, what's goin' on?"

"Did you stop to see Parker on your way out?" Bret asked.

"Yeah, he's gonna get in touch with Marshal Webster and see if there's any news. Why? I don't like that look on your face."

"That's my fault, Mr. Bret. I think somebody's been out here snoopin' around." This from Pauly, who didn't look particularly happy at the moment.

"What makes you say that, Pauly?"

"Some supplies been moved, some things torn apart that we had put together. Saw a footprint or two don't look quite right. And it looks like somebody was around the barn. I think we oughta hire ourselves a night man, keep watch over the place so we don't have to worry about losin' the stallion again. Either that or you can . . . "

"No," Bret was adamant. "I'll not be responsible for a kid gettin' hurt or killed. See if there's somebody on the work crew who wants to make extra money. And let's get 'em started tonight."

"And if nobody . . ." Pauly started and immediately got interrupted by Bret, who'd never sounded quite so mad.

"NO! I ain't puttin' no fifteen-year-old-kid out there to get shot. FIND SOMEBODY ELSE!"

Bret turned his back on Bart and Pauly and stalked off towards the barn. "Sorry, Pauly, he didn't mean nothin' by it. He feels responsible for the boy, is all. See if you can get somebody hired for tonight, would ya?"

Wilcox nodded and headed towards the half-constructed house, muttering something as he went. Bart followed Bret into the barn, where Tim was giving Blue a rubdown. "She's a mighty fine little filly, Mr. Bart. How old you figure she is?"

"I'm not sure, Tim. Thirteen, fourteen, somethin' like that. Why?"

"So she's gonna foal next year, huh?"

"She . . . what?" Bart was startled. He'd been paying no attention to Blue and Cantaro's romantic relationship.

"You didn't know?"

A slow shake of the head verified that assumption. Bart leaned over towards Cantaro's stall. "Have you no shame?" he hissed at the stallion, who promptly shook his head 'no.' Bart looked around the barn; he didn't see his brother anywhere. "Take good care of her, Tim. She's a special girl." He started to walk away and then turned back. "Looks like we might have somebody here at night to guard Cantaro. If we do, you'll be goin' home with me tonight. And if you see Bret, tell him I'm lookin' for him, would you?"

The gambler walked through the building but found no trace of his brother. _'Hmmm. I wonder where he went.'_ Out through the back of the barn, he finally spotted Bret at the far end of the paddock. He was standing with his head propped against the top rail of the fence, staring out into the empty corral. Something was bothering Bret; it had been troubling him since he first met Tim Demerest. It was time to find out just what it was.

Bret was lost deep in thought; whatever was disturbing him had his complete and full attention. He almost jumped out of his skin when Bart laid a hand on his back. "What's wrong, big brother? What's got you so tied up in knots?"

Bret shook his head but didn't change the way he was standing. "Nothin'. Nothin' botherin' me at all."

"Sure. And my name's Lily Monroe and I'm a dance hall girl. What is it about a fifteen-year-old kid that's got you so rattled? You been real protective of him ever since his pa got shot. What is it you ain't tellin' me?"

"Does he remind you of anybody, Bart?"

The younger brother thought for a minute and was just about to give up when it suddenly came to him. "Yeah, Bret, he does. Earnie Night."

Bart's best friends when he was fifteen were Fred Taylor and Earnie Night. Bart was on the edge of turning into a petty criminal when he became convinced the only way he could take a certain girl to a dance was to have money – so when Earnie came up with a plan to rob the Providence Club in Claytonville, Fred and Bart agreed to go along with it. Bart backed out at the last minute, and Fred backed out with him; Earnie attempted to pull the job by himself. The following morning they got the word that Earnie had been killed during the robbery.

Bart nodded. "You're right. I never thought about it, but Tim sure does look like Earnie. What made you think of that? I ain't thought about Earnie Night in years."

The next words out of his brother's mouth were totally unexpected. "I think about Earnie almost every day."

"You – you do?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

Now Bart was really confused. "Why, Bret? He wasn't even your friend. He was mine."

Bret finally pulled away from the fence rail and stared right at his little brother; not so little anymore. "Because I could've stopped him, Bart. I could've stopped him, and he might still be alive. Instead I did nothin', and I let him go by himself and get killed."

"But . . . how? And why?"

A look of shame passed across Bret's face. "I was in that old grove of juniper trees, waitin' to see what you was gonna do. I heard your whole conversation."

"You did?"

"Yep. And instead of ridin' out after Earnie, I let him go. If I'd followed him, stopped him, he might still be alive. And our whole lives could be different."

Everything was quiet, while Bart pondered what he'd just heard from his brother. So Bret was in the juniper grove, no doubt waiting to see what he did. And when he and Fred had refused to go with Earnie . . . but he was still confused. What did that have to do with Tim Demerest?

And when Bret saw the look on his brother's face – he knew he had to explain himself. "Don't you see? I had Earnie's life in my hands . . . just like I have Tim's. If Demerest was still in San Antonio . . . Ledbetter woulda shot him down just as a precaution. Another fifteen-year-old I coulda saved but didn't bother with. I – I had to bring him back. I couldn't leave him there with nobody to protect him, Bart. I couldn't do it again."

Bart was surprised by the emotion in Bret's voice. He had no idea . . . that his brother had been at the river that night so long ago, or that he felt such guilt for not trying to stop Earnie. At least he understood the unexplained obsession with a boy neither of them had ever met before. He put his arm around Bret's shoulders and squeezed, and got a half-hearted smile. "Always lookin' out for me, weren't you?"

"I tried, little brother. I tried."

"C'mon, we'll find a place for the kid. He don't know how lucky he is." And they walked back through the barn, trying to resolve where it would be best to keep the newest member of the household safe.


	18. Six of One

Chapter 17 – Six of One

"So Pauly found someone for the night job?" Tim asked Bart as they rode home that night.

"Yep, Joe Brown's lookin' to get married and wants the extra money. Joe's a good man; I'm sure the horses will be well taken care of." Bart thought about Blue and wondered what Tim might know about a maiden mother at her advanced age. "Say, about Blue . . . "

"She's gonna be a spectacular mother. You really didn't know that her and Cantaro . . . "

The gambler shook his head. "Hadn't paid any attention to it," he answered. "They just seemed to get along from the first; she calmed him down a lot."

Tim laughed. "She did more than that. He seems awful tender towards her, though, I'll say that for him."

"Come on, that's the livery up ahead. We'll get Hoover settled in for the night and then you can meet all of my babies. They're older than Bret's, he was a hard man to tie down."

"Sounds like he's made up for it."

"Mine are prettier," Bart grinned. They got the horses settled in the livery for the night and then struck out on foot for the house; it was almost dark and neither one saw the shadowy figure that followed them. As usual, it was chaos as soon as Bart walked in the front door, but it settled down quickly and got very quiet when everyone caught sight of Tim. "And this is Mr. Demerest, otherwise known as Tim," the gambler finished after he'd gone round the room with introductions.

Maudie waved, but Belle seemed charmed and gave Tim an elegant courtesy. In less than five minutes he was involved in the girls latest game, something called 'Not on My Watch,' and Beauregard was even included. Lily Mae stood in the kitchen and nodded her head. "Seems like a good lad," she remarked, and Doralice agreed with her.

"It's a shame about his father, but maybe we can make him feel like he's got a home," she added as she set an extra plate on the table.

"Another mouth to feed," little Lily stated solemnly, and everyone within hearing laughed.

"Another brother to defend us," Breton appeared to view things a bit differently.

"That's excellent, Breton." His mother looked at him seriously. "What does he need to defend us against?"

"Big sisters," Breton affirmed. Again, everyone laughed.

They were cleaning up after supper when they heard Shorty outside barking at something or someone. There was a loud 'thud' and then silence; Bart took his gun down from the rack by the back door and headed out there. He was gone ten or fifteen minutes, and when he returned Shorty trotted in by his side.

"Anything out there?" Doralice looked concerned.

"Nothin' that I could see. Looked like Shorty was chasin' a rabbit and ran into the house. I just feel . . . jumpy. Like I'm waitin' for somebody to show up."

"Somebody like Stan Ledbetter?" Tim asked.

"Maybe."

"I thought the man was a horse trader," Lily Mae reminded them.

"He was, as far as I know. Bret said he'd played poker more than once with him, and he was real casual about it when he lost Cantaro in the poker game. Didn't seem to bother him at all."

"And then he stole the horses and tried to sell them to Mr. Demerest?" Doralice had gotten up and closed the door to the twins' bedroom; the little ones were already in bed sound asleep. That left only the adults in the front room.

Tim nodded. "He sold Blue, but they were hagglin' over Cantaro when Pa sent me over to Boone's Livery with the mare. Last I heard, Ledbetter wanted ten thousand dollars for the stallion."

Bart whistled. "That's almost twice what he valued the horse at for the poker game." He shook his head gently. "I don't get it. There's a piece of this puzzle that seems to be missin'."

The house remained relatively silent while everyone pondered the enigma that was Stan Ledbetter. "Guess I just have to see what Dave Parker dug up on him in the morning. Maybe then I can figure what his next move is gonna be."

"Do you think he'll try to get Cantaro again?"

"I don't know, Tim. But it wouldn't surprise me if he did."

Sometime later Bart and Doralice were lying in bed talking when the subject of Ledbetter came up again. "Something you didn't want to talk about before?"

"Something I won't talk about in front of the boy," Bart answered her.

"What is that?"

"I am afraid that Stan's gonna show up here again – only I don't think it's the horse he's after."

"You think it's the boy, don't you?" Doralice asked as she buried herself ever deeper in her husband's embrace.

"I do. I think he ain't gonna be satisfied until Tim's just as dead as Bobby." There was no doubt, no hesitation in the answer.

"But why, Bart? It doesn't make any sense. Ain't no reason to be gunnin' for a fifteen-year-old."

"I know it doesn't, honey. There's another piece to this, somewhere, and I been rackin' my brain tryin' to figure out what it is."

"Do you think it can wait until morning?" she asked slyly, kissing his neck and chin and working her way around towards his mouth.

"I think," he breathed heavily in her ear, "it's gonna have to."

XXXXXXXX

The next morning Bart was up and sitting in Dave Parker's office drinking coffee before anyone else in the house was awake. It was bothering him and would continue to do so until he figured out Stan Ledbetter's reason for wanting to dispose of a fifteen-year-old kid.

"Did you hear anything from Webster yesterday?"

"Nothin' new," Dave reported. "But I found out somethin' interesting from the marshal up in Abilene."

"Oh? What was that?"

"I thought Bret told you he'd played poker against Ledbetter before."

Bart nodded, before getting up to refill his coffee cup. "That's what he said."

"And that the man was an established horse trader up north."

Another nod of the head. "Is there a point here, Dave?"

"Marshal up in Abilene don't know the man. Says he never heard of him, and that he don't have any kind of a spread anywhere in the vicinity."

"He what?" There was a startled tone that went right along with the startled look.

"What's more, marshal thinks he's seen a warrant out on Ledbetter. Supposed to let me know. You better keep the kid someplace safe until I get some kinda word on this Ledbetter fella."

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I'm goin' out to the ranch, so if you hear anything . . . "

"I'll be sure and let you know." Bart got up and hurried back to the house. He had an idea but didn't want to put it into play without talking to Tim first.


	19. Caught Up in Circles

Chapter 18 – Caught Up in Circles, Confusion is Nothing New

Bret Maverick stared at the procession that rapidly approached the B Bar M and chuckled to himself. There were two people on their way to the gates; one was riding Tim Demerest's pinto pony Hoover, and the other was driving the ranch wagon. The wagon was loaded with the unique windows that had been ordered for the house. Bret knew one of the two men well – it was his brother, Bart. A quick glance at the driver would make you believe Bart was wearing the familiar gray hat and fringed buckskin jacket, and holding the reins in his hands oh-so-casually.

It was, in fact, Tim Demerest, with Maverick aboard the pinto, who pranced himself in sideways. "Tryin' out new ideas for Halloween?" Bret called as both pulled up in front of the breeding barn and joined him.

Tim grinned. "It was the only way he'd let me come out here today."

"Somethin' I need to know?"

Bart nodded as he hopped down off the pinto. "Spirited little fella, isn't he?" He petted the pinto's neck and turned to the youngster. "Can you take those over to Pauly, please? Before he comes over here yellin' at the both of us for not gettin' here sooner?"

Tim climbed back up on the wagon and gave Bart a mock salute. "Yes, boss," he laughed, and headed off toward the now three-quarter finished structure that would be the last Maverick house.

"He's a good kid," Bart said to no one in particular, as Bret fixed a worried look on his face.

"He seems to be. Now what's wrong?"

"Let's talk in the barn." Bart headed that way and Bret followed him, until they reached Cantaro's stall.

"Far enough," Bret announced, and waited for his brother to begin. "Why were you two playin' dress-up this mornin'?"

"How well do you know Ledbetter?"

"Evidently not as well as I should."

"Parker says he's got no spread. Heard that from the law up in Abilene. I thought this guy was a legitimate horse trader."

The older brother looked perplexed. "So did I."

"This don't make no sense, brother Bret. I don't think it's the horse he wants; I think it's the kid he's after."

"Yeah, but why? What's Tim got that Stan wants back?" A minute passed, then two, while the brothers stood there, each straining to find the missing piece of the puzzle. "Maybe it's not what Tim's got; maybe it's what he knows."

Blue nickered in recognition and came over to see if Bart had anything out of the ordinary for her; when he didn't, she went back to grazing on the new hay she'd gotten that morning. Cantaro ignored everyone but Blue; he stayed close to her.

"What could he know that'd make him a target?"

Before they could get any further with the mystery, Tim returned, a man on a mission. "Pauly sent me to get the two of you. He says it's all hands on deck to put the windows in the house. No exceptions."

Bart delivered an excruciating moan, followed by, "Not those again!"

Bret slapped him on the back. "Afraid so, son. Doralice liked 'em so much when Ginny had 'em put in she ordered some, too."

"I swore up and down I'd never use those things again."

Bret grinned. "You had no say in the matter at all."

"C'mon, you two, before Pauly skins my hide," Tim laughed as he led them out the barn door.

XXXXXXXX

"So let me get this straight," the voice said. "You lost the horse in a poker game, and then you stole him back. You took him to San Antonio to sell and killed the man that was trying to buy him, then left him at one of the auction farms and was forced to abandon him when the men you stole him from in Little Bend showed up. And now you wanna go back and kill the kid because he knows who you and the horse really are. Is that about right?"

The man that had been posing as Stan Ledbetter nodded. "I know it's a mess, but if I get rid of the boy, I can steal the horse back and get it all straightened out. I swear to God."

"You swear to God?"

'Stan' nodded eagerly. "I do, I swear."

The voice was silent for a moment, and then murmured softly, "Aw, now, you shouldn'ta done that. I hate it when grown men swear." Just as he finished he fired his weapon, and 'Stan' dropped to the ground with a resounding crash. "Get him outta here," he ordered the man to his left, who did just as he was told. "Now let's see what we can do about gettin' this horse back."

"What about the kid?"

"Do whatever's necessary. If the kid's not involved, forget it. If he is, take him out. And anybody else that gets in your way. Just get the horse back."


	20. Would the Real Cantaro Please Stand Up?

Chapter 19 – Would the Real Cantaro Please Stand Up?

Life went on, as it tends to do, and for weeks on end everything seemed to go smoothly. The building on the final and largest Maverick house continued unabated until the day came that the move was made from Little Bend proper to the B Bar M Ranch. Doralice and Bart were sad to say good-bye to the home that was within walking distance of Maude's, but thrilled to finally settle in to something big enough for the whole family. And when the last piece of furniture had been moved, the entire work crew shifted its focus to the big barn.

Stan Ledbetter disappeared from sight, and slowly the concern about Tim's safety faded until it wasn't the most important issue on everyone's mind. They began to think about cross-breeding and buying another cow, and how many more chickens were needed to populate the hen house fully. Life settled into a nice routine. Bart still managed the overall operation of Maude's and went to town once a week to check on its continuing functionality; Bret still rode to Claytonville or Asherville or further south to play poker when the need to feel the cards arose.

Tim fell into the role of communal older brother to all eight of the Maverick children, and even Pappy and Maude thought of him as one of theirs. So it was a kind of jolt to the entire support system when Marshal Jolly Webster came riding onto the ranch one afternoon. He found Bart first and after introductions were made and coffee was poured, they sat down in Doralice's almost finished kitchen to admire the newest indoor water pump.

"Yeah, that sure is somethin' special," the Marshal remarked. "Those two have quite a creative mind when they put their heads together. Be interesting to see what they come up with next."

"God knows what it'll be," Bart added, "but I'm sure it'll cost a pretty penny, whatever it is. Alright, Marshal, I don't think you rode all this way just to discuss indoor plumbing with me. What's on your mind?"

"It's Tim. Everything was going along quietly; Bobby's debts were being paid and I was settin' everything extra aside for Tim. Then last week some fella from New York turned up in town, lookin' for Tim. Wouldn't say what it was about, just that it concerned Tim and wanted to know if I had any way to find him. Told him I might but it could take a while, so I got his name and where to contact him. Figured I'd take some time and mosey on up this way, see if I could find y'all and let ya know what was goin' on."

"You leave San Antonio all by itself, to get along without you?" Bart asked as he examined the slip of paper Webster had given him. _'Jim Evans, c/o Dallas Star Hotel, Dallas, Texas.'_

"Naw, got too many deputies as it is. Give 'em somethin' to do while I'm gone."

Doralice fixed lunch while Bart went to find Tim, and he passed the note along while they ate. Marshal Webster gave everything he'd accumulated to the boy; there was almost one hundred forty-five dollars in the envelope. "I appreciate you doin' this, Marshal. Thanks again."

After Webster headed for home, Tim was left with a decision. "I wonder what this is about?"

"Only one way to find out," Bart told him. "I have to go into Little Bend tomorrow. You wanna go with me?"

"I think so. If that's alright."

"Of course it is. We'll see if we can get you an answer."

XXXXXXXX

A telegram was sent, and several days later an answer was returned. _'Would like to speak to you re: the night your father was killed. Can be in Little Bend Friday. Little Bend Arms Hotel. Four P.M. Front Desk. Jim Evans.'_

"Will you go with me?" Tim asked Bret, but didn't get the answer he was hoping for.

"I can't, Tim. I'm gonna be in a game in Claytonville on Friday. It's all Lou Manning's friends – Grace's father and my friend. Why don't you take Bart?"

"Take me where?" Bart asked sometime later when Tim proposed the trip. After it was explained to him, Bart agreed to go.

"I still don't know why he wants to see me. But I'm gonna find out."

At the Front Desk they were directed to a small office, where they waited several minutes for Jim Evans to show. Tim was about to leave when Evans finally arrived. After introductions, the stranger explained himself.

"Tim, Mr. Maverick, I work for Wells Fargo as an investigator." He showed them his credentials; they looked legitimate. "I've been tracking a group of purebred horse thieves for almost a year now. The man you knew as Stan Ledbetter was one of them. You'll notice I said 'was.' As far as I can tell, Ledbetter is dead. He disappeared not long after your father was killed, Tim. I'm tryn' to determine if Ledbetter slipped and said somethin' he shouldn't have, that you might have overheard.

"They had an ingenious scheme worked out; much more clever than we expected them to have. They owned one black Arabian stallion, approximately two-years-old. As far as anyone knew, this was the horse that the ring sold; in some cases over and over. But the horse they actually delivered to someone who paid the purchase price was an Arabian stallion they'd stolen from the East Coast, usually New York. They might or might not match in color, but they were very rarely questioned on any discrepancy."

"They did what?" Tim asked, not clear on the concept.

"Sold a horse they had legal ownership of, but delivered a stolen animal in his place."

"You've grasped the concept completely, Mr. Maverick. The horse they kept presenting was the one they legally owned, Cantaro I believe his name is, but that is not the animal they delivered once sold. Except . . . "

"Except?" Bart asked eagerly, hoping that the black stallion currently residing in their breeding barn was Cantero.

"We believe that the real Cantero is currently in the possession of the man that bought the pure-bred Arabian from the auction conducted in the paddock at Yancy's ranch in San Antonio. There was so much chaos and confusion that we've been unable to determine exactly who that is. That sale would be a legal transaction, and the sale a legal sale."

Bart held himself in check while repeating the situation as he understood it: "So whoever bought Cantaro at Yancy's ranch got the real thing – a purebred Arabian stallion that was legally owned by the thieves."

"Correct."

"Which means the sale is correct. The owner of the horse known as Cantaro is the one and only legal owner. Would either of you know who that is? Tim? Mr. Maverick?"

The grin that spread from ear to ear almost split Bart Maverick's face in half. "Um, that would be my brother and me, Mr. Evans."


	21. Little Ones

Chapter 20 – Little Ones

"So it appears that Cantaro's ownership is settled, legally."

"That doesn't mean everything's over."

The first remark was made by Bart; the second by Bret. Both were correct. The brothers and their wives were indulging in a late supper, the children of both households having been fed at their normal time and put to bed. The only exception was the fifteen-year-old Tim Demerest, who was definitely closer to being an adult than remaining a child. Many things had changed since he'd come to be part of the Maverick households, but one thing hadn't – he still alternated between living with Bret and Ginny or Bart and Doralice. And he felt like he was part of both families.

"No, it doesn't, but at least we know he's ours legally. And we can get the breeding started," Bart was smiling at the thought of finally moving forward with the program.

Doralice spoke up. "When's Pauly gonna have the barn completed?" She had more than one project for the house that she needed his help on.

"The end of this month, he promised," Bret answered. "Seems like he's been workin' on it forever."

"Then we can build the rest of the fences," Tim pointed out.

"And finish the out-buildings," Ginny reminded them.

"And have a functioning business," Bart finished.

XXXXXXXX

A week later Bart went out to the barn early to spend some time with Blue and Cantaro before going into town for a day at Maude's; he found an empty stall instead of the stallion. Bart hurried to Bret's to roust his brother before he left for Little Bend and Dave Parker's office; that's when he discovered Cantaro wasn't the only one missing. Tim was nowhere to be found.

By the time Bart and Dave got back to the ranch, Bret was saddled and ready to go, and he'd made yet another discovery – Tim's paint pony and gear were gone, too. Now the only question was whether Tim had been taken by the thieves, or he'd discovered the missing stallion and gone after them.

It appeared they were following a group of five – four horses carrying weight and a fifth – Cantaro, no doubt – without a rider. "Looks like he's trailin' 'em," Bret and the sheriff agreed after examining the latest set of tracks.

"Damn it, Tim, why'd you have to follow them?" Bart muttered to no one in particular.

"They killed his father, remember?" Dave asked over his shoulder, while he did his best to avoid losing the trail.

"If this is the same group," Bret reminded them.

It got harder and harder to keep up with the bunch they were chasing, and somewhere around noon they finally lost the trail. The three men spread out in different directions and kept searching for well over an hour, but none of them could find a trace of either "captive." When they met up again and stopped to water the horses, there was not a happy face among the three.

"Now what? Anybody got an idea?"

Parker was the first one to speak up. "I can't go any further, boys. I've got a town to take care of."

"I'll keep goin'," Bret volunteered. "I was just gonna lay fence today, anyway. Bart, why don't you go ahead and go into Maude's this afternoon, and if I don't find anything I'll get Pauly and two or three others and we can all go back out tomorrow."

"I'm gonna go with you, Bret. I don't think Tim started out as a hostage, but I got a feelin' about it now. And if that's the same bunch behind Ledbetter . . . they won't hesitate to kill him."

"Makes me wonder why they haven't already," Dave interjected. "Let me know what you find out." The sheriff mounted and headed back towards Little Bend, leaving the brothers alone at the stream. They were just about to mount up and head out when Bart saw something in the grass and bent down to pick it up. It was a silver star, a decoration that was on the paint pony's bridle. It looked as if it had been forcibly broken off and dropped in the grass.

"Well, the kid's still alive," Bret remarked as he took the object from Bart. "And thinking."

"Looks like they're still headed northeast. Let's see if we can pick 'em up again."

Both brothers mounted and headed northeast, watching to see if they could spot another sign. Almost an hour passed before Bart found another of the decorative stars. They were just on the edge of a grove of juniper's when Bret stopped them abruptly and whispered, "Shhhh." They heard a whinny, and it sounded like Cantaro. In the stillness, the paint pony answered. "How'd we catch 'em?" Bret whispered.

Bart dismounted and checked the tracks, which had reappeared about half a mile back. After a few minutes he told his brother, "Somebody's limpin'. Looks like one of the thieves horses. That's how we caught 'em."

Down a small hill and across the valley floor, five horses were slowly making their way _a_ cross the desert. Bart was right, one of the thieves horses was sporting a distinct limp. The little caravan came to an abrupt halt, and Tim dismounted. His hands were tied in front of him, and a rope pulled Tim along behind the limping horse. The outlaw dismounted too, and wasted no time in shooting the animal he'd been on. Then he mounted Tim's pony and yanked the boy forward. Evidently Tim was now supposed to walk. He staggered forward and Bart smiled; it wouldn't take long to catch them now.

"Hold here until they're out of sight again," Bret ordered, and he and Bart waited for the group to disappear. When they had, the brothers worked out a plan.

"This better work. I'm gettin' tired of having to steal our horse back. "

"I'm sure you're not the only one tired right now," Bret pointed out, thinking strictly of Tim.

"That goes without sayin'," the younger brother remarked, instantly feeling sorry for the way it sounded. "That poor kids been through nothin' but hell since the day we met him. I'm sure he'd like to have this over, too."

"It will be, shortly," Bret promised and, as already planned, the two of them took out across the open field. It didn't take much to catch the thieves unaware, and Tim hit the ground as soon as he saw the two riders fast approaching. Gunfire followed, and two of the kidnappers went down in a hail of bullets; the third caught a ricochet and eventually ended up sliding off his horse. Bret hurried to Tim to untie him and make sure he was alright; Bart caught hold of the pony and the stallion and brought them back to his brother. Hoover had taken a bullet in his left buttock, but it was nothing that wouldn't heal; Cantaro was unscathed.

"You alright?" Bart questioned the boy as soon as he was on his feet.

Tim nodded and threw his arms around the younger man, more than happy to be alive. "How's Hoover?"

"He'll be fine in a couple of weeks," Bret responded after examining the horse. Tim then subjected him to the same fate as Bart, with a heartfelt 'thanks' thrown in. "Let's get you and the horses back to the ranch. Parker can come on out with a couple of the boys and clean up this mess."

"And let's hope this is the end of it," Bart added.

Tim nodded in agreement. "I don't have time for this," he explained. "I've got little ones to raise."

"Horses or people?" Bret questioned, trying not to laugh.

"Both," Tim answered seriously. "I've got both."


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

The barn was finished. The corrals were built. All of Doralice Mavericks indoor 'improvements' were finished. And the first round of the breeding program was completed, with more than a dozen mares happily due to foal sometime next spring.

Jim Evans hurried back to Little Bend and the three 'kidnappers' were finally identified as the last remaining members of the horse theft ring. With no one pursuing Tim Demerest and all of his father's debts settled in San Antonio, the young man decided that Little Bend, Texas was as good a place to start over as any. Besides, he had young'uns to help raise, both the two-legged and four-legged kind. And two 'big brothers' that for some reason had adopted him.

Cantaro did quite well as a sire for the B Bar M, although he preferred to keep company with Blue and their filly, when she was born.

One night Bart lay in bed and listened to the blonde in his arms breathe, and he marveled at how far he and his brother had come, and how much their lives had changed in the interim. All he wanted when he was fourteen years old was to travel around the country and play poker. Now here he was, with a wife and five children, the owner of both a big saloon and co-owner of a horse-breeding ranch, and he wondered how he'd got here, and where he was going next. And he realized it didn't much matter, as long as he had Doralice in his arms and his brother by his side.

The End


End file.
